First a Peek, Then a Poke
by JohnPaulGeorgeandRingo
Summary: Bar trips, meltdowns and baseball bats, it's all part of being friends with the newly cured Marie. But just when did sharing a bed appear in the equation? Logan's POV - Expect swearing. This is a short, extremely dark Rogan which eventually leads to a dominant/controlling Logan.
1. I Fucking Hate Asparagus

**_Sadly your square, computer screen shaped eyes are not deceiving you. I'm posting another Rogan because I am crazy. Everything is on hold (Luckily I don't seem to have much of a life) including the other stories, kidnapping plans, Two and a Half Men, Skype chats and anything else that could possibly distract me from finishing this. _**

**_Luckily for my social life, this is going to be very short. Okay, so the first chapter is over 3,000 words long (Which is totally my fault) And a plot bunny will be bursting out of your screen very soon (His name is Logan and he's German. So don't be scared if he's dressed in Lederhosen, eating a bratwurst, drinking beer and whistling the German national anthem... He can't help it, the poor thing) _**

**_Anyway, before I bore you all to tears with my ramblings about kidnapping pretend mutants, giant ice creams which surprise even the Americans, hot weather and the rude bees that are nesting in the brick work of my house (And scaring the crap out of me!) I'll just go ahead and post the first chapter._**

**_Oh and it's England Vs. Mexico tonight. I wonder how easy it'll be to work on the next chapter while watching the football? Probably easier than it would be to type the next chapter while playing football... _**

**_This story is dedicated to BrownEyedDevil and Soon2Bme: Remember a kidnapped actor is for life, not just a night of drunken debauchery... _**

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**I Fucking Hate Asparagus**

The Days were long, drawn out and offensively humid if you were able to smell body odour within ten miles. The entire country was being blamed for global warming; George Bush's smug face was plastered over every news channel while he pawed over the idiots guide to battle cries and the art of starting pointless wars. Birds were pointlessly singing, kids were screaming bloody murder, the sizeable sun was sizzling high over Westchester and Wolverine the resident badass of the mansion was brooding in the kitchen.

The kitchen, the fucking kitchen of all places... Damn it, complaining wasn't manly. He wouldn't let a single one of his students complain when they were in one of his defence classes. Complaining when you were in battle was fucking stupid but grumbling when you had been chased out of the garage... Now there was nothing wrong with that.

Was he possibly being the biggest hypocrite this side of the Pacific? Hell yeah, but no one was going to call him on it, they didn't have the balls for one thing and if they dared grow a pair? Easy, he would castrate them with one swift swipe of his claws. Anyway, the Wolverine brooded silently; as in on his own.

Logan lazily lifted his head as Leech walked into the room, one meaningful growl and the boy shot out of the kitchen with a squeak.

Heh, he liked being able to scare the crap out of people. Maybe it even made his life worth living now that he'd been kicked out of the garage on a Sunday afternoon; _His Sunday afternoon. _He was sitting in the kitchen nursing a beer when he should have been spending time alone with his bike.

Karma was a bitch and so was Storm to some extent. The damn woman had given him his marching orders after a little altercation with some smart assed kid. Now his ass had been ordered out of the garage for an entire day. What the hell was he supposed to do until midnight? Still, he kind of respected her for taking on the responsibilities of this place; it had to be tough stepping up to the plate after all that had happened.

Shit, she would light a fire under his ass if he decided to fight over his territory; he could take being bossed around. No, really he could. If only by a select few people and he was happy about that.

_Yeah, so fucking happy about it I'm on my eighth beer... Make that ninth. Damn women and their hormones, I know she's on her period. What the hell does it do to them? Losing a tiny bit of blood must really fuck with their brains or something. Although they were probably wired wrong to begin with. _

Using his teeth to snap the cap off the bottle, Logan leant back in his chair and rolled his eyes. He had turned into a whipped bitch and he hadn't even noticed the transformation.

It had to hurt when your testicles shrivelled up and dropped out of your wuss of a scrotum but he hadn't even acknowledged the change until now. That was probably because he was the mother fucking Wolverine and he ate balls for breakfast... Not literally of course. Shit, he was just going to shut up now.

His ears perked up as he heard a set of footsteps stop directly outside the kitchen door. A familiar scent tickled his nostrils and said scent smelt pissed off. Great, that was just what he needed, another temperamental fucking female to deal with.

Marie D'Ancanto marched into the kitchen, slamming the door against the wall and sent a withering glare his way. Raising both eyebrows as she deliberately ignored his presence; he shrugged his shoulders and concentrated on draining his beer. At least an icy beer couldn't answer him back, throw any type of object at his head or cuss his ass into next week.

She might have taken the cure but it hadn't dented her fiery temper, the girl could still fight, spit and scream with the best of them. He blamed himself; her innocence had been tainted as soon as she had walked uninvited into his life. But there was still that naive, young slip of the girl that he'd first met in there somewhere. It was just hidden, very well hidden.

Turning on her heels, she seemed to suddenly become acutely aware of his beer for the first time.

The first thing he noticed was that she had been crying and her eyes were red, and puffy. Still she glared defiantly at him and it really wasn't any of his business. They kept their private lives separate, they always had done. Yeah, he'd made a promise to look after her; it didn't involve sticking his oar into her personal life though.

Okay, it did but only when he felt the need to do so and he had yet to feel_ that_ need.

An arch of an eyebrow was all he could offer her, that and a heavy sigh. A mansion full of fucking emotional brats was hell on earth and it seriously messed with his brooding time.

"Can I have one?" She asked gesturing at the bottle and biting her lower lip. When had she ever drunk anything other than shitty flavoured water and _Liptons Ice Tea_? Oh, what the hell did it have to do with him anyway?

Nodding curtly, Logan jerked his thumb at the refrigerator and watched her retrieve a bottle for herself. This might have been the perfect opportunity for one of those so-how-you-doing talks but cage fighting, ass kicking, beer drinking, mother fucking assholes didn't talk. Especially not before they'd had the opportunity to drink their weight in malt whisky, smoke more cigars than their estimated age and pass out in a drunken heap in the front yard.

_Fuck that, I'd heal within seconds then would have to listen to a crying, over-emotional kid without being in an alcohol induced coma. I don't like it when she cries... Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm not heartless but you ever tell anyone and I'll hunt you down. You really want me to turn up on your doorstep in the middle of the night? What the hell do you mean, yeah? _

A bottle appeared directly under his nose and he glanced up.

"I can't find the bottle opener."

That would be because he had attacked it the last time he'd run out of beer. He wasn't entirely sure why he had blamed the bottle opener but he had. It was a man thing, just like hungrily eyeing women that were young enough to be your daughter, scratching your balls in full view of five or more people and burping loudly in a restaurant. That type of behaviour was the real reason why men were the more superior of sexes – They didn't give a crap.

Taking the bottle from her grasp, Logan once again gave his teeth the important job of snapping the cap free from its boozy prison. He also idly wondered what would happen if he chipped a tooth, would it heal and even more importantly, did he even care? Those were the thoughts of a brooding yet thoroughly bored guy on a Sunday afternoon.

"Thanks."

He grunted in reply, and then gaped openly at her when she sat down beside him. There went his brooding session and he wasn't at all annoyed about it. He had something else to think about now, he was intrigued.

"You wanna talk?" Logan asked her, his eyes never leaving the safety of the refrigerator that they were both watching out of necessity. It was either that or count the stack of unwashed plates in the sink and both knew that if they were caught staring at them long enough they'd have to wash them.

"No"

Releasing a sigh of relief, he basked in the sounds of her shuffling her feet and sipping her beer. This felt a little alien to him; they really hadn't spent much time together since the shit had hit the fan over the cure. He had no idea how life had been treating since she'd rid herself of her curse, and no, those weren't his choice of words.

"Do you want to talk?" Marie questioned him, making him feel all of ten years old.

"No" He snorted, feeling slightly guilty as soon as her face fell.

His eyes darting back to the fridge, he wracked his brain for a topic that wouldn't piss her off, make her cry or cause his day to go from bad to even worse.

_I doubt she wants to chat about how I'd like to show Shania Twain a thing or two in bed. Hey, even an asshole like me can't escape country music, no matter how fast I run, it still catches my ass. She ain't a hockey fan either which is her loss._

_Shit, no wonder men drag their feet and complain when they have to go out for dinner with a woman. It's because they have to sit there for over an hour having a fucking conversation and they're seriously out of their depth. _

_What the hell does the kid like? Wait, there was that band... Damn it, what were they called? They had the name of a vegetable I think or was it a fruit? No, it was defiantly a vegetable. I know it wasn't celery, lettuce or peas. Who the hell would name a band after a stick of celery? _

_Asparagus? Jesus, I hate asparagus, never ever feed me asparagus. I don't care if we haven't left my bed in days and you think I've over exerted myself, I'm not going to eat asparagus. I heal and asparagus is my damn Kryptonite. _

_I had a drink with Superman once and drank the pansy ass under the table. He was curled up in the foetal position under the table whimpering about Lois and Jesus, she is one fuckable looking girl even if she wears the pants in that relationship. I like to be the dominant one; I'm not having any woman leading me by the balls. Even if they've shrivelled up and headed so far south they're on a penguin's lunch menu. _

_It really must suck to live on fish for an entire life time. You might as well try steak at least once and my balls are the best steak out there. There'll be no need for a tooth pick either and there's no flossing on my watch. My balls are a Canadian delicacy, look me up in the phonebook and I'll come running with a pack of condoms, a pair of handcuffs and a thing or two to teach you, darlin'._

_Now where the hell was I? Carrots, potatoes, tomatoes? Fuck it..._

"You wanna go to a bar?"

* * *

"Two beers"

"Wait, I haven't even looked at the drinks menu." Marie protested, hoisting herself onto a bar stool and fumbling with the sticky laminated list of cats piss and side orders "Ooh, they do cocktails."

Shaking his head at her sudden burst of enthusiasm, he glanced back at the impatient barman. "Two beers."

She huffed beside him and they fell into a comfortable silence once more. They had ridden the bike over here and he was pretty sure that the kid was one hell of a lightweight. She'd had one beer before they'd left and nearly fell of the damn motor cycle three times, almost gave him a heart attack or ten too.

Two bottles of beer were placed in front of them both and she voiced her thanks, nearly toppled off the stool then immediately suckled on the bottle. It reminded him of a starving baby breast feeding and that was seriously fucked up... He really was losing it.

"Do you come here often?" She asked him, sounding like a walking talking male cliché.

"Yeah" He grunted, searching his jacket pockets for his pack of matches.

"I still want to try a cocktail."

Logan rolled his eyes and balanced his cigar on the edge of the bar. "Uh huh"

"Doesn't sex on the beach sound sooooooo good right about now?"

Stopping his hands in his tracks, he momentarily gave up his search for his matches and stared at her in amazement. He felt as though he had stepped into the Twilight zone. One sniff and he immediately knew that she wasn't on her period; the madness was all in her damn mind then.

His fingers brushed against the box of matched and he removed them from his pocket. "You don't drink." He blurted out, wincing immediately because he sounded like an absolute jackass.

"Every girl's entitled to change her mind." She shot back, shifting on the stool and draining her bottle of beer in seconds.

Words failed him, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he watched her slam the empty bottle down. Where the hell was Marie_, his Marie_? The girl that wouldn't say boo to a goose or look a gift horse in the mouth. Yeah, he was pretty hung up on animals today. It all started this morning with Storm's cattiness and claws.

"I really want a cocktail."

Was this the time to stick his oar into her life?

"I'll have a big old jug of sex on the beach please." Rogue told the stocky, gold toothed and heavily tattooed man behind the bar. "Oooh and can I have a Satan's Whisker too. That has Gin in it, right?"

The man nodded and went about his business, clinking glasses, shaking and mixing together a concoction of alcoholic beverages much to the kid's delight. "This has got to be your best idea ever, Logan"

He was starting to think that it would have been a better idea to have fought over his territory with Storm, then to have brought the kid to a bar. But she looked so happy...

_I guess I could just keep an eye on her; at least she's drinking with a responsible adult. I'm waiting for the jokes to start rolling in and the first ones free. Seconds are going to cost you dearly and how do you fancy my boot up your ass? So while I wait, I'll have another few beers._

_

* * *

_

"I don't think Bobby finds me attractive anymore."

Logan had no idea how to respond to that. The first thought that came to his mind was good, she deserved so much better than the little ice prick. The boy was a little to vanilla for his liking and he smelt weird, like peanut butter and Kitty fucking Pryde.

Thankfully, his girl was getting drunk and didn't ask him for his input. "I think it's because I threw all my gloves away. He won't let me touch him, Logan."

Carefully watching her out of the corner of his eye, he quickly beckoned the bar man over. "Another beer."

"I bought him some Viagra off the internet."

Logan shifted uncomfortably on his stool and hundreds of R-rated Ice Prick jokes began to drown his subconciousness. Sadly it didn't extend to Marie's voice and anyway, why did it take a drunken comment about Viagra to awaken his perverted sleeping mind?

"Bobby's had problems getting it to stand to attention." Marie complained a little too loudly for his liking. They were starting to receive a great many questioning looks and Mr. Heavily Tattooed to His Fucking Eyeballs kept smirking at him. "I told him it must be his diet; he eats far too much peanut butter."

The now thoroughly amused barman chuckled at the conversation they were having and Logan growled at the girl sitting beside him. When that had no effect whatsoever, he turned his glare on the barman. "When you're finished, I'll have a bottle of whisky."

"Hey Buddy, it's not my girl that's lighting up the place with her talk." He quipped, throwing a suspiciously flirtatious wink Marie's way and skulking off.

"Bobby used to wink at me like that."

Groaning inwardly, Logan gratefully snatched the bottle of whisky from the guys hand and instantly poured himself a double. This was really going to be a trying day and he had to keep his strength up, there was no way of knowing what else he would have to endure.

* * *

"Are you going to drink that?" Marie slurred slightly and pointed to his untouched bottle of beer.

He slid the bottle to her and turned to the grinning bastard who was still proudly flashing his tattoos at the kid. Well, she was having fun and at least the girl was smiling. If things got a little too heated and he tried to display anything beyond his belly button, the asshole would have a new claim to fame: The only barman without fingers and barman needed fingers, right?

Deforming the guy wouldn't please him in the slightest. Logan had searched high and low for an atmosphere like this. He glanced around at his surroundings and cracked a smile, it was perfect.

There was a drunk passed out by the door in a pool of his own spit and saliva, the jukebox was permanently broken after a heated exchange with his claws and it smelt like beer.

What more could you ask for?

At least his rambling whiskey induced thoughts weren't centered on his balls this time. Still, he'd rather hold an internationally televised speech on his balls then Iceman's limp dick. But if he iced it, maybe it wouldn't stay limp...

"Quit chattin' her up and give me another bottle!" He bellowed making both Marie and her new friend jump in the process.

"You've really got a pair of lungs on you, Logan; I'd hate to hear you in a fit of an orgasm." She commented with an inebriated giggle. "In fact, I think I still have one of your memories in here somewhere." Closing her eyes, her face was contorted into what he could only describe as a hilarious attempt at drunken concentration.

_She isn't actually relieving one of my moments, is she? Why couldn't the cure strip every piece of my memory from that damn abyss she calls her mind. Shit, it had better not be that time I got myself handcuffed to the bed by that nut with the wild hair... I'd rather have had sex with a vacuum cleaner. Did she just shudder? Aw, crap, she's really doing this to me. Why in the hell is she doing this to me?_

"Jesus Christ, Kid!" Logan whispered harshly, shaking her by the shoulders. "Snap the hell outta it. You're showin this place a new brand of crazy."

"That woman was the crazy one." Marie said, shrugging his hands away and smiling knowingly. "Did she really do that to you with a feather, a raccoon and a packet of skittles? I thought that part with the asparagus was a pretty interesting development, but the jury's still out on the snapper fish. "

Wolverine could only groan at the painful memory. "I fucking hate asparagus."

* * *

_**P.S. Every Hugh Jackman fan needs to go straight to YouTube and watch him dance his way through the new Lipton Ice Tea advert!**_

_**As I warned you before, a plot will be forming in the next chapter (Crosses fingers) They're loitering on the line of friendship at the moment and they need to become better acquainted before we have any of that Rogan nonsense :P**_

_**A very angry Marie with a baseball bat might just feature in one of the following chapters. I have the urge to write a massive meltdown and it won't leave me alone until I do just that.**_


	2. Do You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth?

**_I'm really trying my best to post these chapters within a half decent time frame and luckily I was hit by a brick today. I mean that in the sense of 'I finally got around to forming a plot for this story' No-one has thrown a brick at me yet, I think my neighbours actually like me and it seems a nice neighbourhood... If you don't count the nest of mortar bee's, screaming kids and noisy builders. Oh and the grass snakes *shudders*_**

**_Anyway, the plot bunny snuck up on me in the early hours of this morning... It demanded all my Hugh Jackman DVD's, a years supply of sushi and an Abba CD - I was of course horrified! LOL But on a happier note, I'm not scared of rabbits dressed in Lederhosen and I'm pretty chuffed with the plot which will become apparent in the chapter that follows this one. It's something that I've never dreamt of writing about before, so it should prove to be an interesting task. I'm hoping that you enjoy it too._**

**_I did drunkenly order two Hugh Jackman DVD's at the weekend and they arrived this morning :D Can anyone guess how I'll be spending my night? Did it just get hot in here or is it just me? Ah, I think its cold shower time._**

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**Do You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth?**

"I'm starting to think that liquor is the only thing that doesn't let me down." Marie mumbled into the table top, a mass of tangled hair concealing her pale face and pouted lips.

Logan was sitting opposite her, crowding his side of the booth with his bulk. He had half carried half dragged her over here after she had keeled over at the bar. At least the kid hadn't been sitting on the stool this time, so it hadn't been much of a fall.

"You goin' to tell me what's wrong or do I have to drag it outta you?" He demanded with the help of his ever vocal eyebrow. Okay, so maybe the drink was starting to affect him too.

"I vote for dragging it out of me."

"You already look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards. I doubt your hair could put up with much more."

Placing each hand to her side, Marie gradually lifted her head off the table and blinked slowly. "That's not very nice, is it?"

Logan snorted and folded his arms. "Never have been and never will be nice." He replied, his mouth twitching with the threat of a smirk. He couldn't get over how a little fall could scare the bejesus out of her hair. It looked as though she had spent the best part of her week strapped to the wing of a fighter jet.

"You're just like every other man," She cried, slamming her fist on the table and knocking the condiments over. "You bide your time and then when you think its safe..."

Things were starting to make sense now. "What did the little prick do?"

"He acted just like a man!"

"You're goin' to have to be a little more specific." He sighed, tackling the leaking tomato ketchup with a paper napkin and failing miserably to clean the mess.

"I only want some more sex on the beach." Marie muttered, a tear escaping her eye and trickling down her cheek.

_Good one asshole, now you've gone and made her cry. I've got a crying, pissed and man hating girl for company, my hands are covered in ketchup and these napkins are shit. There's something very wrong about this scene. If I had my way, Bobby would be sitting here whimpering, I'd have blood on my hands, a model in a bikini would bring me over an Egyptian cotton towel and an ice cold beer._

_Then I would let her lead me to the nearest restroom and I'd pound her against the tiles with my jeans around my ankles. Probably not the most sanitary of places to whip my dick out in, but I've found that it likes an adventure or two to keep the cobwebs away. _

"Kid - " Logan looked, Logan stared and Logan grumbled to himself. He was met with an empty booth and there was no weeping and overly emotional girl in sight. Why had his acute senses not alerted him to her leaving? Was he that self obsessed or was he just as drunk and stupid? He hated other men too; and didn't like IcePrick and his limp dick in the slightest.

A pair of enormous breasts along with their owner slid into Marie's seat, and the woman's barn door sized boobs caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. "I think your girlfriend desperately needed to go to the restroom."

Logan's eyes hovered unashamedly on her heavy chest. If she was going to wear a scrap of material that barely covered her top half than he was going to stare, and he was going to get an eye full.

"She ain't my girlfriend." He finally responded after being snapped out of his erotic fantasies by the coolness of his own drool collecting in his lap.

"Wife?"

"Nope"

"Hooker?"

He raised an eyebrow and glared at her breasts, they were after all both the size of a human head. "She isn't a fuckin' hooker. Now how about you do me a favour and piss off?"

The woman jiggled her head and breasts up and down in a spectacular lack of understanding. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" She asked calmly, tucking her raven coloured hair behind her pierced ear.

"I have enough bossy women in my life," Logan scoffed, dismissing her shallow attempts at eye sex. She had a pair of the strangest eyes he had ever seen. They were yellow and very cat like. "And they all think they're my mother. Those are some freaky lookin' eyes you've got yourself there, you a mutant?"

"They're just contacts and I think you're trying to change the subject. If you're not sleeping with her then she's related to you, am I right?"

"You're wrong again and what the hell is this, ask twenty stupid fuckin' questions?"

Her jaw dropped and she slapped her hands against her reddening cheeks. "Oh, I'm so sorry. How embarrassing," She said blushing again and squeezing her tightly wedged breasts out from behind the table. "I guess my gaydar is a little rusty today."

Logan had little to offer in a way of a complaint. He was too busy still eyeing those perfect pink boulders.

"It should have been obvious to me. I mean look at you and you're not married. You seem to like leather and your jeans are so very tight, I swear I could tell you what size condoms you wear."

_I guess Ms. Heavy up top is a rambler when she's embarrassed... Wait. .Minute_

"Hey, I'm not-"

She waved her hands and he noted the way her chest heaved. "No, no, no. You should be proud of who you are and never let anyone ever tell you anything different." Then, much to his dick's delight, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Your friend shouldn't be long, the amount she's had to drink will quickly become apparent to that guy and sleeping with a mannequin isn't much fun."

Then she left and he instantly mourned the loss of her breasts. And what a pair they were, like beach balls and the realization quickly dawned on him that inflatable's and claws didn't mix.

The conversation replayed in his head and he leapt to his feet. "Aw, fuck." His eyes flickered to the restroom door; he sniffed and cracked his ketchup stained knuckles. "I really didn't wanna have to do this."

* * *

He had told himself time and time again that he wasn't going to stick his oar onto her life. Yet here he found himself sniffing their mixed scents outside the restroom door.

_This really isn't any of my business, is it? She has every right to have a little fun and I might call her kid, but I guess she's grown up so much since we first met. I can't go barging in there and shred the first man I see. What the hell am I going on about? She's only got one man in there... I hope. _

Logan almost left and then he thought about his balls. He had them for a reason; he only brought her here for a drink because she was upset and now his girl was drunk. She would wake up tomorrow and probably regret her hastily made drunken decisions.

_She's going blame me too, I just know she is. What the fuck am I doing? Get you head out of your ass Logan! You've got claws, so fucking use them. And if I take any longer making up my mind, I'll be walking in on a damn birth. _

Cracking the kink out of his neck, he arched an eyebrow, straightened his clothes, unsheathed his claws and kicked in the door – He had to look his best when interrupting a drunken fuck.

There were two surprised shouts, cursing directed squarely at him and a blood curdling scream. He still wasn't sure who had screamed, it was probably the barman after he had spotted the claws swinging dangerously at his donkey dick

"You bastard," Marie was the curser; there was no doubt about it. "Logan, I'm going to shove asparagus up your crap shoot!" She cried, half naked and not amused in the slightest.

He was too busy slamming the barman against the wall and pointing a claw at his eye. "You're goin' to shut up and let me talk," He growled evenly, their noses almost touching. "You interrupt me and my hand just might slip."

"Wooolveeeriiine, let him go."

"Just concentrate on puttin' your clothes back on before your nipples drop off."

He heard her quietly stringing together a threat that excited the pervert in him, cleared his throat and concentrated on the point at hand. "Now listen closely bub because I'm only goin' to say this once. If I ever catch you and her in this restroom again, I'll make damn sure that you never dip your dick into another woman, animal or pie ever again."

The barman would have shrunk back if Logan had loosened his grip on his throat. "I'm waitin' for you to tell me that you understand, asshole."

"He understands!" Marie snapped at him as she tried in vain to dress herself. "What's the matter with this top? My head won't fit through this hole, why won't it fit through the hole? What's happened to my head?"

Glancing over his shoulder at a topless Marie, he tried not to look at her pert breasts. They weren't in the same league as the whoppers from earlier but they didn't need to be...

_Shit, look at her face, look at her face. Damn it, I can't see her face. What is she trying to do with that top, suffocate herself? I bet that woman with the monsters has suffocated many men over the years. It must be similar to the response I get when a hooker gets their teeth into my meat and two veg._

"That's the arm hole." Logan sighed, shoving the guy roughly to the door. "Now get the hell out of here."

"But this is my bar," The naked man replied, still not feeling brave enough to cover himself or keep direct eye contact. "You... You two need to leave."

"This is your bar?" She asked astonished and sounding taken aback. "Logan, I've just slept with an owner of a business."

He didn't answer her, just eyed her curiously for a moment. How the hell had she turned out this way? This was something he would have done... With a woman mind you and he wouldn't have given a shit what anyone else would have thought. Now he was wordlessly condemning Marie for acting like he did on a daily basis.

"I told you to leave." He snarled, shaking a clawed fist at the barman and taking a threatening step towards him.

That seemed to do the trick; the guy shot out of the door abandoning his clothes in a pile on the floor and leaving them alone. "What the hell made you think that was a good idea?"

Her head snapped up and she threw the top at him. "Aren't I sober enough to screw a guy I've just met?"

"You can't even get your top back on, so I'd say no."

That seemed to shut her up for all of thirty seconds and he pulled her off the grimy ground by her wrist. Sighing to himself, his eyes examined every part of her face closely. "You deserved better than that, you know." And he tugged her maroon coloured vest top over her head. "He ain't even in it for the long haul and you were just gettin' back at your boyfriend."

She diverted her gaze to the wall and visibly wavered on her feet. "If you tell Bobby," She whispered to him. "I'll never talk to you again."

"You really think I care?" He snapped gruffly, leading her by the wrist to the fire exit. He could smell the leaving committee waiting outside by the bar for them and wanted to avoid an ugly scene. "You're just a kid playin' a dangerous game. How long do you think you can keep this from him, huh?"

"He'll never find out."

Slamming the door shut behind them, Logan traipsed down a deserted alley way his hand still firmly holding her wrist. "I've known you long enough, Marie and you can't lie. Remember the time that student wrecked my bike and you took the blame?"

She bravely scoffed at his back. "He had pretty eyes... Whoa, whoa, whoa."

He stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes to the heavens. "What now?"

"Someone keeps moving the sidewalk without telling me."

Was she being serious? This can't have been the first time she had ever been drunk, could it? He probably should have asked her that before he'd kept plying her with drinks. At least she wasn't so plastered that she was passed out on the floor. See, there was almost a plus point in the most shittiest of moments.

"You're drunk"

"No, I'm high on life. Can we go to a club?"

"Come on, we're goin' back to the mansion." Logan announced leaving no room for an argument and he still held onto her wrist. He didn't want her to fall again; her hair had yet to fully recover from the events so far. "Who knows who you'd jump next and I sure as hell ain't burstin' into every restroom in the city."

"I'm not a whore," Marie remarked coldly, eyeing the ground and carefully steeping over a drain. "And you shouldn't have interfered; do you have a problem with me having a sex life?"

"Ordinarily, no." He said, his eyes barely brushing hers and waving down a taxi. "And you could thank me for lookin' out for you."

"You attacked the cute guy I was happily getting acquake… acq-uain-ted with."

"You've got beer goggles, kid."

There was no way in hell that he was having her on his bike again. He just hoped that it would be safe parked outside that bar because heads would roll if he spotted a single scratch. Why hadn't he stayed at the mansion and beat the crap out of everything in the Danger room?

"Beer goggles?" She slurred into his side while he hauled her into the cab. "That's really unfair. I didn't get any free goggles with my beer. Do you have a pair that I can try on?"

Now he'd have to keep her secret, find a new bar to drink in and scratch those two pairs of breasts from his mind. Hmm, breasts and balls. If he ever had the misfortune of having kids, he knew what he'd be naming them.

"I don't have any damn goggles, Marie! Even if I had, I wouldn't keep them down there!"

* * *

"I'm too tired to walk, can't you carry me?" Marie grumbled hanging on to his arm like a mere child. "My feet hurt, I feel sick and my head aches."

"I sure as fuck ain't your daddy," He snorted, gazing down at her. "And I'm not gonna carry you either. You only have to walk from the gates to the damn mansion."

"I bet Arthur would carry me."

"Who's Arthur?"

Tripping over her own feet, she tightened her grip around his brawny arm. "How often do you meet naked men?"

_The guy with the tattoos, gold teeth and donkey dick was called Arthur? Jesus Christ, I'd laugh if I hadn't just had a flash of his naked butt in my brain. That cab cost me an arm and a leg too, the girl's lucky I didn't leave her on that floor and head back to the bar to crack heads. _

"What do you think?" He demanded flatly, focusing on the approaching mansion and not the way her breasts bounced every time she moved. He would have suggested that she wear a tight sports bra- The type with the see through plastic straps, but didn't want to sound like an absolute pervert.

"Well you have had a rather unnatural sex life," She reminded him with a poker straight face and no hint of embarrassment what so ever. "And you're kinky."

"I'm not kinky."

"Yes you are, you're kinky."

"I'm not kinky!"

This was the last time he ever took her drinking. Especially if this was the way she repaid him. Leading her into the garage, they made the way over to the door which was easier said than done.

Marie was beginning to have trouble staying on her feet and he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. "How many sets of handcuffs do you have under your bed?" She questioned his hand, her chin lolling against her chest.

Lifting her over the step, he peered over her shoulder and scowled. "How the hell do you know about them?"

"You see, you're kinky!" She cried happily, clapping her hands together and grinning like a maniac on day release. "I've even seen what you've been hiding in your drawers."

Logan paled significantly at that.

Marie exhaled and pawed at the kitchen counter, drooling on the cool granite worktop. "You're kinky and you know it. Oh, it's so nice and cold."

"What, the handcuffs?" He wondered out loud and feeling the temperature rise dramatically.

"You are one kinky pervert."

"I'm not fuckin' kinky!"

"Logan, keep your voice down." Storm ordered from her place at the doorway. "As of five minutes ago, everyone was sleeping soundly."

_And here comes one of my many mothers now, lucky old me. She can probably do without my sarcasm, so I'll give it a rest for tonight. I don't want to end the night with a lightening bolt up my ass. Yeah, I've turned into a domesticated wuss and I'm not remotely proud of it._

"Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Stormy, Storm, Storm, Storm, Stoooooorm."

They both stared at Marie and Ororo gave Logan a questioning look. "Don't ask." He immediately said, shaking his head when she parted her lips.

"I wasn't going to," She replied indifferently, and stepping closer to the haggard looking former mutant. "This picture paints a thousand words. Bobby, she's back!"

Logan had been expecting a chewing out for taking off and returning to the mansion with a pissed, barely functioning Marie. To say he was surprised at the outcome was pretty irrelevant right now. He was more interested in observing the unfolding drama being played out in front of his nose.

Storm brushed Marie's hair out of her face and coaxed her into a motherly hug. "Rogue, sweetie, please don't tell me that you've done it again."

He distinctly heard a sob from the kid and felt slightly out of place in the family dynamic. "It was only one time, I swear it. Please don't tell Bobby."

"Shh, we'll talk about it later, Okay?" Storm glanced over the chaotic, frazzled and wiry birds nest that Marie called hair and her white eyes met his. "You're not the one that I'm angry at." She whispered in the girls ear, rubbing continuous circles on her back and trying to calm her.

_What the fuck is Storm talking about and why do I get the distinct feeling that I've been deliberately left out of the loop for their own benefit? _

"Does anyone wanna tell me what's been goin' on?" Logan voice rumbled over the quiet sounds of her sobbing.

Ororo gave him a warning look and silently mouthed; "Not now." Then like all women with a bee in her bonnet, she zeroed in on his hands. "That had better not be blood on your hands, Logan."

He gazed down and sighed heavily. "Its ketchup," He growled through clenched teeth. "Now what…"

Before another growled word could be uttered, Bobby sprinted through the door and almost collided with Logan. "Where is she?"

"What took you so long?" Storm countered with more patience then a saint. She was obviously thinking the same as Wolverine was and he had cheated by using his trusty nose.

"I was just talking to…" Bobby began to squirm under his relentless glare and tried in vain not to falter. "I was talking to a friend."

Logan wasn't having any of it. He still wasn't that accustomed to people lying to his face but it happened occasionally in the mansion, and was always followed by a back breaking Danger room session. "Bull shit." He muttered under his breath.

"Just help me take Rogue to her room." Storm announced, her eyes still wordlessly berating both the men in her sight. "I don't want any trouble tonight."

"Yeah, whatever," Wolverine commented with little interest in her wishes. "I just need a quick word with Iceman. Seriously, it won't take long."

Bobby gulped, Marie sniffed and Ororo almost smiled.

Logan patiently waited until both women had left the kitchen, then turned his attention to the boy. "I don't know what's been happenin' behind my back but I know this much," He made sure that he crowded the little shits space as much as possible and glared for all he was worth. "You break her heart and I'll break your face."

Smirking to himself, he watched Bobby nod in understanding and dart out of the kitchen faster than his legs could carry him.

Wolverine had to bite back a chuckle when he heard the sounds of Marie puking her guts out at the stop of the stairs. That turned into a full blown, deep throaty laugh when Storm's shout of; "Not the Persian rug!" reached his willing ears.

_Heh, that serves her right for kicking my ass out of my garage. While she cleans up that mess I might just kick back and relax in the garage with an ice cold beer. Just because I don't have my bike to work on, it doesn't mean that I can't stand there and survey my territory. _

_After that though, I'm going to get to the bottom of what's wrong with Marie. I'm not a fan of being kept in the dark, especially when it concerns the kid. They had better have answers at the ready because the big, bad Wolverine is about to come a knocking._

_Jesus, I can't believe those words came straight out of my head. Beer first and if that fails there's always those bouncing breasts to think about._

_

* * *

_

_**Thanks to the following people for reviewing!**_

_**Pepper - Don't you just love a good meltdown? Its a great way to banish all those emotions that you just can't shake off. I've had my fair share of spectacular meltdowns and I'm probably long over due for my next one. I had those exact same thoughts when I watched it too. I'm still wrestling with those thoughts and I must have watched it a hundred times now. You're just going to have to use your imagination about the raccoon and the skittles. Give it a try, time sure flies!**_

_**The Kidnapping She Devil- I did mean your Logan, yes. Although I can't be too teasing over the Lederhosen. We do after all have a phenomenon called Morris Dancing in this country *Blushes furiously* And they wear ridiculous clothing also. I suggest that you order your husband to build a basement and work on your dancing skills. It won't be long now, I can feel it in the air ;) **_

_**Comic - I was pleased with the score too, even though it's a shame that Mexico were given the free reign to score! I can't wait for the world cup and I'm more than tempted to start hoarding the beer already. I've seen some pretty great beer crate deals from the supermarkets and I know that I won't be thirsty come June. **_

**_jnetrich - Marie and her ever faithful baseball bat will appear in the next chapter... And that's all I can say on the subject because I have yet to even write it! LOL_**

**_jinx - We'll cross our fingers and hope that the police don't find us too soon. I'll make sure that I bring the skittles ;) Vodka too._**

**_The Crazy Ice Cream Loving Yank - You updated it! Ahem... Oh and it is your fault. You should have been watching that match and there was me thinking that you were a fan! There's nothing to be afraid of... Who in their right mind likes asparagus!_**

**_Did anyone understand the part where Marie was singing Storm's name? In my head it matches a famous theme tune to an American sitcom that I really love. For those that know me, you know what I'm hinting at, right? _**


	3. I Blamed It On The Peanut Butter

**News: Alexmonalisa has posted the new Rogan writing challenge and it looks like it's going to be a good one. I also caught a video on you tube that made me cringe titled 'Hugh Jackman performing Wolverine - The Musical' and oh, how I did cringe… I laughed too. Sometimes I think that he's too nice for his own good LOL! **

**I watched Paperback Hero yesterday and I learnt the following: Never drive an enormous truck while trying to write because you never know when a plane might fly towards you, scare your dog and ruin your paint work. **

**Also never park in Hugh Jackman's parking space! I think I'm in love with Jack Wallis (The character in Paperback Hero) I'm a sucker for a man that loves his dog and Ruby can throw a mean punch! **

**There's also a karaoke scene and BrownEyedDevil will instantly know why that excites me. BTW I personally wouldn't want to win a frozen turkey for my trouble. A bottle of vodka or Hugh Jackman, yes please. **

**Edit: I have now watched this film three times. I think that I need help!**

**

* * *

**

**I Blamed It On The Peanut Butter**

Logan checked his watch and raked a calloused hand through his hair. The stars were beginning to fade, the sun was threatening to expose it's naked self to the nation and he had only just rolled in on his motor cycle.

He had waited all of five minutes for an answer last night, then returned to the bar for his bike. There was a regimented, carefully constructed list of activities that calmed his feral soul, riding being one of them. Whether it indicated his love of riding motor cycles or women, he didn't much care. They both were loud, felt great between his thighs and had a purpose in his life.

_You can't take a motor cycle to bed though and that's a sobering thought. Well it would be if I was actually drunk. Although I did hear once about a guy that burnt his dick after greeting his bike a little to intimately, he was probably British or maybe German. I've heard about those people, they have nothing but bad food and shitty weather in their lives and begin to turn batshit crazy once they hit forty. _

_Mid-life crisis my hairy ass. They're just going stir fucking crazy in suburban hell with their perfect families, and pointless jobs. I'd start murdering people within the hour if I had to live a domesticated life and no this doesn't count. I don't think it does anyway. _

The stairs creaked under his weight as he climbed them, his hand brushing the varnished wooden railing. Easily stepping over the battered skateboard and toys that littered the top step, he rolled his eyes. "Stupid kids." He grumbled, kicking the obstacles out of his way and continuing to his room.

Sighing in relief when he spotted his unmade bed, Logan peeled his wife beater off over his muscular shoulders and dropped it to the ground. The strong scent of blood wafted from the stained fabric and he kicked it to the side.

Another activity that kept his feral side at bay and in check was fighting. He had become a born again brawler after witnessing Jean's casket being lowered into the ground. It was a way of life he would always associate himself with and it helped him in a way he could never understand or even put into words.

Tonight had been one of those moments when Wolverine had found himself not only knee deep in knuckleheads, but he had been the one that started the bar fight. There had been a deep scratch on his bike that had made him growl in annoyance. But once his seasoned eyes caught sight of the whopping great dent and the grazes on the handlebars… Logan had seen red.

Now his wife beater was yet another casualty because he knew he'd never be able to wear it again. Logan would forever smell the barman's blood, even after one hundred washes, it would still be there as a reminder.

Unzipping his jeans, he pulled then down his hardened, thick thighs and stepped out of the coarse denim. Leaving them in a pool on his carpeted floor, he kicked the door shut, removed his charcoal coloured boxer shorts and slumped tiredly onto the bed.

_I'll track down both Marie and Ro later, but for now I need my rest. That fight really took it out of me tonight. I guess I'm not as young as I used to be, still showed them though and that Arthur won't be slipping anything to anyone for a good while yet._

Reaching for the pair of earplugs that Hank had sourced from the tight knit medical community, he yawned and punched the pillow a few times. After all, men like him didn't fluff their pillows the ordinary way.

* * *

A tornado, that was what woke him. A fucking tornado tearing up his room and turning what remained of his life inside out. His body was gradually being evicted from the bed and he pawed at the bedside table in an attempt to stand his ground.

Struggling to crack open an eye against the brutal wind, Logan fought to open his mouth. "STORM!" He hollered, closely bordering on the sounds of a five year old girl.

The wind grew in ferocity, his grip began to loosen and he spotted his boxer shorts float past.

Unable to hear anything due to the plugs sitting snugly in his ears, he chose the adult and extremely manly route to take. "FUCK THIS SHIT!"

He could feel the vibrations of the bed rattling against the wall, and his stomach flipped with a sense of dread when the table was swept clean off the floor along with him and his mattress.

Logan felt completely out of his depth, the wind whipped against his naked body and he found himself caught in the eye of the tornado.

_Shit, I'm going to fucking kill the woman. I'm going to kill her… Damn it, she knows that I don't like flying!_

Then as soon as it had begun, it abruptly ended and he was thrown into the wall, landing on his bedside table, opposed to the softness of the mattress. "Aw, no," He groaned, carefully standing to his feet and eyeing the pieces of what used to be his table. "I just bought that."

The nausea he attributed to the unscheduled flying lesson quickly dissolved and he tilted his head to the side, pulling the earplugs out. "Did I sleep through lunch?"

Standing in his doorway with a look of satisfaction on her face, Storm raised a plucked eyebrow. "I just wanted to talk," She replied lightly. "I'd appreciate it if you at least tried to look embarrassed."

He looked down and grinned smugly at her. "Why, does this bother you?" He shot back, groping for the pair of sweat pants he spotted hanging from the light fixture on the ceiling. "And you could have just knocked."

"I did. Several times."

And of course he didn't hear because of the earplugs. He didn't know whether to thank Beast or sell him to a stuffed animal collector. Maybe even a circus, seeing as the cash would come in handy now that he had to replace all his bedroom furniture.

"So, you finally gonna tell me what I've been missin'?" Logan asked, tugging on a pair of X-Men issue sweat pants.

"You can go see for yourself." Ororo responded, instantly piquing his curiosity. "I'm surprised you can't hear it from here."

"Hear what?"

As soon as those words had left his lips an almighty crash was heard from downstairs. Logan glanced questioningly at Storm and wondered why she wasn't running down there to find out what was happening. "What the hell was that?" He demanded.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Why are you talkin' to me and not dealin' with whatever's goin' on down there?"

Another crash seemed to echo throughout the mansion, and Storm rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Because I'm tired, Logan." She uttered the words so softly he almost lost them in the noise. "I can't keep doing this on my own."

His immediate response would have been to snort but she appeared on the verge of tears. "You're not on your own." He said with a heavy dose of sincerity mixed in with guilt.

Thankfully the mushy moment was broken by yet another thunderous smash and Logan cursed under his breath. "I'm goin' down there," He told her, marching out of the door and growling over his shoulder. "And it'd better not be in the same state as my fuckin' room."

"Good luck," Ororo sighed softly, watching his retreating back. "I think you're going to need it."

* * *

Rubbing the remainder of the sleep from his eyes, it surprised him that there was anything else left to rub. The tornado had stripped his body, room and mind clean of all the crap that had been weighing him down, but he wasn't going to forgive Storm that easily. Logan hated, absolutely loathed going shopping. If you wanted to piss him off to the point of no return, then take him to a store and badger him into choosing a new pair of underwear.

"What the…" He stepped over what used to be an expensive vase and blinked several times at the absolute chaos in the rec-room.

_This place is a fucking mess, what the hell happened here? I've lived through wars before and I've never seen anything like this. I know I've fought in more then one, still having the nightmares is a big giveaway _

Sniffing a mixture of scents, he couldn't tell who had torn this place apart but he wanted to tear them limb from limb. Both antique lamps were broken beyond repair, pools balls littered the floor, even the TV had been smashed to bits. Shards of glass scattered the carpet and he found himself wishing that he had at least slipped on a pair of boots.

"I SHOULD NEVER HAVE BELIEVED YOU!"

The enraged screech pierced through the silence, he stepped forward and a piece of glass punctured the bottom of his foot causing him to wince in the most manly of ways. "Damn it." He snarled, plucking the glass from his foot and watching the small cut heal before his eyes.

"ROGUE, NO!"

Logan instantly knew who was to blame for the carnage. It had been obvious from the moment he had heard her voice because there was only one other person except him that had the stupidity to piss of his Marie. This was all the Ice-cubes fucking fault.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

_I'm putting a stop to this crap right now. I think it's about high time I stick my oar into the kid's business. Shit, what was that noise? It sounds like they're in the garage… They had better not be fighting anywhere near my damn bike!_

_

* * *

_

Wolverine couldn't believe what he was witnessing but was extremely pleased to see that his bike was still in one piece. The fighting couple hadn't noticed him slip through the door and he was less then impressed with their observation skills. He thought he had taught them better then this.

Marie circled Bobby's most expensive possession with an aluminium base ball bat in her hands. "You're nothing but a lying, cheating bastard!" She exclaimed heatedly, her face darkening by the second.

"It was only once, Rogue." Limp Dick declared, slowly stepping towards her with his arms outstretched. "I promise it was only the once. Please give me the bat, please."

"You liar!"

Now he had done it, Logan acknowledged quietly to himself as she raised the bat above her head and it connected with the windscreen. Bobby jumped back with a squeal, his face a look of mangled horror and held his head in his hands.

"My parents bought me that for graduation!" He shouted, the temperature in the room immediately dropping and sheets of ice running up the walls.

Icicles began to form above Logan's head and he cleared his throat. Both glaring parties swung around to look at the intruder and neither were remotely surprised to see Wolverine standing there with a scowl on his face and his arms tightly folded across his bare chest.

"Thank God," Bobby sighed, pointing an icy finger at Marie. "Don't just stand there. Get the bat off her! Haven't you seen the damage she's done in the mansion!"

Logan arched an eyebrow, "I could hardly miss it now, could I?" He grunted, his eyes boring into the boys. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her swing the bat and whistled. "Your girl's a pro with the bat, ain't she?"

"How many times did you do her, Bobby?" Marie snarled, swinging the bat repeatedly against the side windows and reducing them to little more then holes in a dented, base ball bat imprinted frame on four wheels. "You said you couldn't sleep with me!"

Logan could feel the growl clawing at his throat and roughly rested a hand on Bobby's shoulder to stop him from attempting to freeze Marie. He didn't necessarily agree with her smashing up the inside of the mansion but had no qualms about allowing her to release the anger on Ice-Dicks car.

"You can't let her do this." Bobby uttered, the ice vanishing from his fists. "What kind of teacher are you? You're supposed to help us."

The boy had made a good point there. He was a teacher and a bad ass one at that. "Kid, you've missed the tail lights," He told her with a half amused, half proud smirk tugging on his lips. "And make sure your feet are parallel with your shoulders. Don't let your muscles tighten, yeah that's it darlin', now swing."

The bat bounced perfectly off it's target and she made quick work of the tail lights. "You wouldn't touch me, Bobby!" She wailed, attacking the hood repeatedly. "I bought you Viagra and you still wouldn't touch me!" Her body started to shake with great wracking sobs and Logan's fingers began to bruise the boys shoulder. "I blamed it on the peanut butter."

Storm rushed into the garage and gasped at the scene. "Logan!" She cried sounding beyond exasperated. "Will you stop growling and do something useful for once!"

"What do you mean for once?" He grumbled watching Marie dish out a new brand of whoop ass on the roof of the car.

"Just stop Rogue and I'll get rid of Bobby."

He snapped his gaze to Ororo and shook his head sternly. "He's not goin' anywhere until I've had a quick word with him."

Bobby stepped closer to Storm's side and started to choke on his words. "I… I… Tried to…"

Ororo rolled her eyes and pushed Bobby gently towards him. "It had only better be a quick word and keep your hands to-"

Swinging his right fist at Bobby's face, Logan grunted when his knuckles slammed into Ice-Pricks nose, instantly breaking the cartilage it came into contact with. Bobby stumbled back and swore under his croaky breath, his eyes bulging when he saw the blood gushing down his green T-shirt.

"Yourself!" She finished indignantly, rushing to Bobby's side. "I thought you were going to have a quick word?"

"Yeah well, I was just gettin' to that part and I've got six of them." He replied sourly, and leant closer to whisper in Bobby's ear. "I told you what would happen." Glancing at Storm, he sighed heavily. "Get him outta here while I deal with her."

She ushered the bloodied, shaking and thoroughly subdued Bobby out of the garage and sent him in search of Hank. "Rogue's not easy to tame when she's like this."

Logan rubbed his jaw pensively and mumbled to himself. Storm wasn't leaving and Marie's personality had temporarily left the planet in search of fuck knows what. This day was heading from bad to worse and he had only just woken up.

"The little shit's gone now, Kid."

"Leave me alone!"

He looked to Storm for help and she waved her hands at him, probably urging him to grow a pair and act like a man. This entire situation irked him to no end. Firstly, he didn't like to see Marie cry and secondly, he was in no way, shape or form a fucking relationship counsellor. What was he supposed to do? Ask her nicely to put the bat down, take her ass into the mansion and make her clean the mess up? Yeah, that sounded like a plan to him and further more, he could foresee nothing going wrong with the rest of his day.

Advancing towards the crying girl who was still beating the hell out of the car, he felt a surge of pride at her stubbornness to call it a day. Surely the muscles in her arms had to have been screaming by now?

Standing between her and the car, he gazed down at her tear stained face. "Put down the bat, you're done for the day."

"Don't," Marie hissed, holding the bat close to her side and matching his glare. "Don't tell me what to do."

Logan snorted. "I don't get why you're so angry, or have you forgotten about last night? He weren't the only cheater runnin' his mouth off."

"Logan…" Storm started.

"I've got it all under control, Ro'."

The kid was easier to deal with now she had taken the cure. There was no mutation to avoid, no chance of slipping unconscious while trying to wrangle her out of one of her moods. This was almost too simple he mused idly.

Reaching for the bat, he was slightly taken aback when she flinched away from him and drifted over to his bike. "Don't. You. Dare." He warned.

She smiled, she fucking smiled at him and lifted the bat high above her head. In an instant, Logan unsheathed a set of claws and dived in attack. In a bid to protect his bike, three claws sliced comfortably through the aluminium severing the bat in half. Both parts of the bat fell to the ground with a _clang_ and he sighed in relief. Unfortunately for Marie that mindset didn't last.

Sheathing his claws, he heaved himself off the ground and advanced on the girl, ignoring the calls from Storm to calm down.

Seizing the front of her loosely fitting vintage _Beatles_ shirt, he slammed her against the wall and growled. Marie meanwhile gazed down at the remnants of her weapon of choice and huffed. "I don't know what your problem is Marie, and I don't much care, but what the hell has my bike ever done to you?"

She had the bare faced cheek to look him in the eyes and shrug. "It carries your ego around without complaint."

Logan had to coerce his hands into letting her go before he skewered her. Many promises to his hands were made and all but one revolved around hookers. Promise number twenty seven involved engine grease and new bike parts.

Stepping back, he inhaled and thought back to the promise he had made. It had been for life and he was deadly serious at the time. Although he hadn't contemplated the kid attacking his prized possession out of… He still didn't have a fucking clue what had just happened.

Ororo appeared beside him and her perfume tickled his nose. "I think we all need to sit down and have a long talk." She announced almost regally. "Thankfully it's summer vacation."

Storm probably had a roll of red carpet and a replica of the Queen's tea set stashed in her bedroom somewhere. Maybe even a crown and his family jewels on display too. Logan was pretty sure that he no longer had a set of balls to boast about. It was now evident that a woman was wearing the pants in this mansion and he sure as hell didn't do drag.

Marie suddenly looked apprehensive and smelt afraid. Before Logan could call her on it, she sprinted out of the garage and left them to stare at the trashed Chrysler in silence.

Minutes passed, ice melted, Logan growled continuously and Storm placed a hand on his bare arm.

"Logan, promise me that you won't overreact. "

He wasn't going to promise anything. Especially not where that girl was concerned. "Just spit it out."

Almost reluctantly, her eyes met his and she tightened her grip around his arm. "Remember all those months you spent in Canada after we lost Jean, Scott and the Professor?"

He nodded his head and stayed perfectly silent.

"Well, Rogue developed a little addiction."

"Drugs or drink?" He demanded, mentally kicking himself for taking her to a bar and paying for her to get smashed.

She patted him on the arm and took a deep breath. "It's a slightly more delicate issue then that." Ororo replied solemnly. "She's a sex addict."

* * *

**Firstly I have to start with: "What'chu talkin' bout Willis?" **

**Gary Coleman died, how sad. When I was younger I absolutely loved watching Different Strokes repeats. I hadn't even been born when they first aired the show or when they cancelled it but I find it sad all the same that he passed away. Especially after reading about his life after the show. **

**Secondly, I was intrigued to see that some people instantly blamed Bobby for the problems… Actually I'd personally still lay the blame at his feet too. **

**On a lighter note, Thanks to the lovely people who reviewed and really make my day. I'm feeling a little down at the moment and I'm not entirely sure what the cause of it is but writing is gradually becoming my escape. Watching Hugh Jackman films and dreaming about the day two countries finally come together and kidnap him is a remedy I find strangely effective too.**

**The David Tennant Loving Yank - Two and a Half Men is my drug of choice alongside Hugh Jackman, Doctor Who episodes and ice cream. **

**Comic - I'll be coming around yours come June then. **

**Masaya - You're welcome. Dually noted.**

**Jnetrich - The waiting is over. I hope it wasn't too much of a letdown! **

**Jinx - I forbid the mentioning of Morris dancers. LOL**

**A.R.13 - I am trying to keep this Logan as near to the film version as possible, so thanks. Glad you got a giggle from the scenes and I'm not a fan of Bobby either. **

**Pepper - You're more then welcome to get kinky with Logan… Go buy an action figure :P Despite having my many meltdowns and recovering, people still think that I'm crazy. I like my sense of humour , it's just a shame that other people find me absolutely crackers! **

**Fla - I hope you're still in love. **

**So what are all your thoughts on the ending? I can't imagine that you were expecting that and does anyone out there actually believe that sex addiction exists or is it an escape route that the Tiger Wood's of the world take when they've been caught out? **

**I'm in two minds about it but it's a pretty interesting topic to write about… Especially where Logan and Marie are concerned! **


	4. Let's Talk About Sex

_**I was watching the Eurovision Song Contest (Nobody came onto Skype and saved me from myself. So, Eurovision it was) when I started writing this and almost 48 hours later I'm still quite worried about 99% of the contestants sanities. Especially those dancers on the stage during Spain's entry… Talk about freaky. And why did both the men singing on the stage have the same hairstyle? It was all very strange. **_

_**I felt sorry for the poor guy representing the UK. Why would Pete Waterman do that to him? The man must live in a time warp. I think Mr. Waterman needs to be on my kidnapping list, just so I can kindly explain why he should never ever write a song again… I'll then release him back into the wild once he agrees with me. The singer from Serbia is also added to the list. I really want to take a set of claws to his hair. **_

_**Germany's entry? Now there was a song that I actually liked and that is a rarity for me (Especially where Eurovision is concerned) I'm also pretty sure that BrownEyedDevil will be swinging from the chandeliers over Germany's win… LMFAO. **_

_**All I can say is thank God for Graham Norton and I hope that our footballing skills are a lot better then our song writing skills *rolls eyes*

* * *

**_

**Let's Talk About Sex**

The air in the late Professor's office was heavy with unsaid words. The tension was evident on both the occupants faces but neither were ready to air their notions.

Logan rested against the ornate panelled walls, his arms folded and his mouth deeply set in a frown. The words _sex_, _Marie_ and _addict_ rolled through his mind and he couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

Pushing himself off the wall, he gazed at Storm and snorted. "This is a joke, right?" He asked her, the amusement not quite reaching his eyes.

_This has to be a fucking joke because I don't think my ticker can take it. Marie, my Marie is the mansions mattress? Is that what Storm's trying to tell me or am I dreaming? I've got to be dreaming, I mean come on, who gets rudely woken up by a mini tornado in the middle of the day?_

_Shut up. I don't care if I live in a mansion surrounded by mutants, have a skeleton bonded with adamantium and haven't been laid in two weeks… This has to be a damn dream. Jesus, has it really been two weeks since I banged the dirty blond in the back of my truck? She was a hell of a lot dirtier after I'd finished with her. Hey, I'm just saying. There's no need to turn all bunny boiler on me, I had enough of that with the crazy haired bitch and the raccoon. Yeah, the raccoon was a female too and seemed to be under the allusion that my balls were her young._

"Yes, Logan." Ororo groaned, flicking a lock of pearly white hair from her eyes. "There are cameras in each corner of the room and we're being beamed directly into people's front rooms as I speak."

Great, just fucking great. When Storm started cracking jokes it meant that the situation was more then a little serious. She always did have a warped sense of humour and her timing was seriously out of whack. Didn't she remember the reason why they were both here, the whole sex addiction thing?

"Look, I know the kid went a little crazy with a bat, but she had her reasons. Hell, I've wanted to hit the punk since I first met him."

"Actually I think Bobby got off lightly." She replied firmly, shuffling the papers on the desk. "If I was Rogue I would have set fire to the bed while he slept."

_Damn, remind me never to piss her off again. I don't care if I heal, being set alight still smarts._

Settling in a chair, Logan stretched his arms and yawned. Storm stuffed the papers in the desk and clasped her hands together. "Are you tired?" She questioned him a little too innocently for his liking.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I am." He grumbled in response with a sarcastic eye roll. "Some nut with a bug up her ass woke me up too fuckin' early."

A boom of thunder drowned her next words but Wolverine caught everyone of them. "I'll let that pass for the moment because we have more pressing matters to discuss." She declared, closing her eyes momentarily and sighing. Rubbing her temples, she looked straight ahead through knitted brows. "Let's talk about sex."

Logan almost choked on his tongue. "Hey, I think I understand all there is to know." He told her, cockily resting his feet on the edge of the desk and slouching in the chair.

"Yes, I've heard all about your kinky tendencies."

That did it, who cared about a small promise that dive bombed off the tongue of a mutant with Swiss cheese for brains? "I ain't kinky!" Logan barked, lifting his heavy duty boots off the desk and daring her to argue with him. "And let's get this straight, I don't do anything they don't want me to do."

Stifling a laugh with her hand, Storm shook her head. "I said you were kinky, not a pervert." She answered soothing his growing paranoia. "Anyway, back to Rogue."

She just said she wanted to talk about sex and now she's changing the subject again. Why can't a woman just pick a topic, stick with it and see it through until the end. It'd be a lot easier for me to keep my ass firmly in the conversation if that was the case.

"The kid, right, yeah," He muttered to her, shifting in his seat. "She has a one night stand and you think that makes her a whore."

A clap of thunder shook the foundations of the building and an outraged Storm leapt to her feet. "I never said that she was a whore!" She cried, the cloudless, dry Summer's day instantly dissolving into a sea of hail, thunder and lightening. "And last night isn't the first sexual encounter she's had with a stranger, Wolverine."

"What do you mean?"

The turbulent weather died down and the light patter of rain beat softly against the window pane. Logan was only pleased that Storm hadn't resorted to creating a fucking tornado this time. Rain he could easily deal with, especially when it was just where it should be, outside and as far away from him as possible.

"She's done this kind of thing before and it's almost always followed by a meltdown."

Logan scowled at that. "You mean she's been fuckin' people left, right and centre?" He demanded, not liking the sound of it one bit. "Then kickin' off after the meet and greet is over?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite like that," Storm sighed, gazing out of the window. "But, yes."

"Oh and how would you have put it?"

"Rogue has a problem, it's as if she can't control her yearnings and the self hatred is spilling out of her. It's like when you first hit puberty and your hormones are all over the place. Except for her it's become a way of dealing with whatever she's going through and I'm sure Bobby's behaviour hasn't helped matters at all."

He blinked several times and arched an eyebrow. "I don't even remember hittin' puberty, Ro."

"Then you're lucky." She replied, smiling sweetly while sniffing the potted flowers that were decorating the window sill. "And I certainly wouldn't have wanted to meet an adolescent Logan, that's for sure. I think we spend enough time tip-toeing around you and your temper as it is."

There she went again, putting him in his place and making him growl in utter frustration. "I don't have a God damn temper, I'm not kinky and would you get to the point because I need a beer."

Storm turned to him with a drained, world weary stare. "I've tried, I really have tried to help her." She uttered beginning to pace. "I picked her up every time that she phoned in tears, it didn't matter what time of night it was. I talked to Hank and he gave her contraceptive pills, even lectured her on the importance of safe sex."

_Jesus, I can't be the only one that understands the irony of a politician pitching the safe sex line. I wonder how many senators, governors and all round fuckers that work in the White House have been caught with their pants down, missing a raincoat and a raccoon._

_Now I feel kind of guilty for taking off to Canada for all that time. Sure I needed to get out on the open road, get a little wild and tour the cage fighting circuit, but I probably could have checked in at least once along the way._

"So, now it's your turn to intervene."

"Are you drunk or somethin'?" He responded with a puzzled look and pointed to himself. "You want me to chat to the kid about sex?" She nodded her head and he snorted. "You've sure been knockin' back the whiskey, ain't you darlin'?"

"Don't call me darlin', Logan. Unless you want a repeat of earlier." She snapped tiredly. "We both need to sit Rogue down and talk to her. I've made a few phone calls and there is plenty of help out there for her."

"What kind of help?"

"Well, group therapy sessions for a start."

"This has got to be the most stupid thing I've ever heard." Logan complained, standing to his feet and slipping his hands into his jean pockets. "The kid ain't even here, she's takin' off in one of her damn moods."

A mountain of un-graded English papers began to vibrate on the desk and Logan stopped in his tracks. "You gonna answer that?" He asked her, ignoring the dark looks she was throwing his way. "Might be important."

Storm dashed over to the desk, lifted the papers to one side and left him to leave the office in relative peace. He only wanted to kick back and relax in his room, switch on his fifty inch plasma TV… if it still worked, watch any variety of sport that manned him up (Curling was not included) and monitor his pants as his balls re-grew. It sounded like the perfect way to spend a lazy evening to him.

"Logan!"

_Please don't let it be what I think it is. Come on, I just want to drink and be merry for the rest of the day. I don't need anymore hassle and my beer is calling me. Damn it, why can't I ever walk away when I know it concerns Marie?_

With a reluctant, heavy sigh, Logan turned around. "Where is she?"

Ororo walked towards him, her cell phone clutched tightly in her hands. "Twenty miles west of here and she's upset."

* * *

Logan puffed on his Cuban cigar easing his foot off the accelerator and drawing the inconspicuous black SUV to a halt beside a truck stop. This was the place that Storm had given him directions to, and luckily the built in GPS had corrected her bullshit. God, this dump was a shit-hole.

Winding the window down, he snuffed his cigar out on his palm and flicked the stogie into the calm evening breeze. By his watch it had just turned seven and he was probably missing a truck load of hockey re-runs. Both Storm and the idiotic, bat wielding, Southern mattress had better appreciate this.

No, that wasn't fair. Marie wasn't a slut, she was just a damn moron that had watched too many romantic movies. Every piece of manufactured crap that Hollywood churned out went so far over the average Joe's head it bounced off the fucking moon. Apparently only girls like his Marie actually ate up that garbage.

He smelt the girl before he saw her. That was to be expected but the anguish in her eyes was another story. She approached the SUV, dragging her feet and avoiding his irritated glare. Loitering beside the truck, she hovered near the window and didn't utter a single word to him.

Logan's nostrils flared, and a single male scent caused his muscles to tense. It was looking more likely by the second that Storm was right and he hated it. Why had a shitty relationship forced her to choose this path and why did she have such little respect for her body?

He cocked an eyebrow at her and sighed. "Okay, I get it. You don't wanna talk to anyone with a dick and all, but me and mine, we come as a package." He told her, leaning over to the passenger door and opening it for her. "So you're gonna have to get over it, put it aside for the moment or you walk back."

Marie hesitated for a minute or so and glanced at the trucks parked a few metres away. Logan assumed that she was weighing up her options in whatever went for a brain in this day and age. He remained silent even though he had a million ways of her telling that she was an idiot, waiting for her to make her decision. Of course, if she made the wrong one he would drag her kicking and screaming into the SUV if he had to.

_Come on kid, just get into the fucking car. I don't want things to get nasty, but they will if you don't haul your ass in here right now. Not only am I missing the game but your antics are going to secure you a spot on Jerry Springer._

He groaned inwardly in relief when she slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. The male scent was stronger now and he filed it away for later use. If he was lucky he might bump into the asshole that had done this to her.

"He… He didn't make me do it." Marie stuttered, shaking him out of his murderous thoughts and a solitary tear rolled down her cheek as she continued. "I propositioned him and put your claws away because he left forty minutes ago."

_Shit, I didn't even realise that my claws were out. I'd better put them away before I fuck the girl up. I might still be able to catch him up though. No, that's probably not a good idea. I need to get her back to the mansion before she blows a gasket again. Storm can deal with the meltdown because I avoid womanly emotions at all costs._

Logan turned the keys in the ignition and revved the engine for his own benefit. He liked the sound and feel of a screaming engine beneath his body.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" She asked him as they pulled away sharply.

She smelt like salt, remorse and self hatred, and probably wanted him to yell at her just so he'd take her mind off what she had done. That wasn't going to happen. Sure, he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and try to shake the stupidity out of her, but that would never work. That was why women put clips and pins in their hair, it was to keep the stupid ideas escaping from their brains.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he turned onto the interstate and held the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip. "You already know that you made a mistake." He grunted allowing the anger to seep into his voice. "What do you want me to do about it, huh? I sure as hell can't turn back time."

Here came the waterworks and he pressed his foot down on the pedal, overtaking a white sedan. "He gave me a lift and I just… I couldn't help it." She whimpered and he didn't even have a tissue to hand to her. "I feel bad enough as it is, I don't need you judging me."

With a sudden growl his eyes flickered from the road to her face "Yeah, and what do you need?" Logan demanded, punching the steering wheel in frustration. "You want me to pat you on the back and say good job, kid, or how about I sniff out another loser for you to fuck?"

Marie's hurt eyes flinched away from his and she fought to undo her seat belt. Instantly he flipped a switch beside his door and the car automatically locked. It might not have been an Aston Martin but this heap was a _Bond_ car in the making.

"Let me out!" She cried in a panic, attacking the door with her fingers nails.

_There's no way that I'm letting her out of this car, so she'd better quiet down and quit pawing at the window, or someone's going to call the damn cops. I'd probably get more peace in a cell but there would be no beer, and that's a hefty price tag to have to deal with for a night's peace and quiet._

"I said let me out!"

"I heard you the first time." He grumbled in reply, the need for a cigar making him feel agitated and restless. "But I told Storm that I was gonna pick your stupid ass up and take you back to the mansion, Marie." He didn't much care about the promise he had made Ororo, the thought of her running out of the car and turning up in a body bag was playing on his mind. "And that's just what I'm goin' to do whether you like it or not. So sit back and shut up."

His words seemed to have the desired effect on her for all of ten seconds. Those ten seconds would have been great if he'd had a beer, a smoke and a porno mag.

Marie shifted in her seat and gasped. "Storm, she told you, didn't she?"

"What if she did?"

"She had no right, it's none of your business!"

The girl was really starting to piss him off and push her luck with him. If it had been anyone else they would have been mince meat by now. "It is my business." He retorted, keen to get back to the mansion as quickly as possible and unload her on someone else preferably not male. "I saved your life, I made you a promise and that makes it my God damn business. Especially when you're runnin' around town doin' what you're doin'."

Marie looked crestfallen at that and twisted the fabric of her shirt around her finger. His inner pervert noted that it partially exposed her flat stomach but his eyes couldn't linger for long, he almost crashed into the car in front.

_For fuck's sake, damn traffic._

He honked the horn impatiently and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Logan avoided whistling because that really would have been a big giveaway to how uncomfortable he was feeling. He might well have just stuck a bumper sticker on the SUV saying; 'I have a perverted, kinky mind, and I fidget and make unnecessary and annoying noises because my feral instincts sometimes make me feel like a horny, rat bastard on drugs.'

_Shit, that would be the king of the bumper stickers. It'd beat those 'My son is an honor student at who gives a flying fuck elementary school.'_

"What would you do if you were me?" Marie questioned him softly.

"I wouldn't be askin' that question for a start." He responded, sighing in relief when the traffic started to clear. "I'd also have more respect for myself and wouldn't be goin' at it with the first dickhead I met."

He knew that he sounded like Cyclops and his inner Wolverine howled at the comparison. "You know, if you ever get the urge to do this again, come and find me."

Her eyes followed his to her naked abdomen and she laughed. "Are you trying to save my pussy from all the mean mutts?"

It was a clever play on words, he could give her that. "Just think about it." He grunted, wondering what in the hell had made him say any of this in the first place.

In his world protecting Marie had never meant screwing her, it really hadn't. The thought had never crossed his mind before and rightly so. But the issue still remained, she had her problem and he would rather her go through the motions with him, someone that generally cared about her, then a good for nothing drunk or the Ice-prick. He might have been slightly at ease with his suggestion for now, however he had the sneaking suspicion that his good intentions were going to turn around and bite him in the ass.

Both Marie and Logan were perfectly silent and still for the remainder of their journey.

* * *

_**I**** guess some of you might think that Logan's feelings seem to have jumped a little too quickly. But, that was my intention. I thought that as someone who lived by their instincts and actions he would see this as the correct thing to do. He also doesn't quite understand all the feelings that are going to be stirred up by his offer… The silly, silly man. **_

_**Logan hasn't fallen for her just yet, he's looking and liking what he sees and the offer is his way of attempting to help her. I doubt Storm will see it that way though. **_

_**Once again, thanks to the people who are still reading this, adding it to their alerts, favourites and reviewing. **_

_**Fla - I bring you more. Again, I hope you like. **_

_**S2T - I do love being lazy. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter.**_

_**A future Doctor Who assistant (Soon2Bme) - It puts your laziness to shame, doesn't it? No, just kidding. Logan most definitely needs a swift kick up the backside or maybe he just needs to watch his motor cycle die a slow and painful death. I forgot all about Jesse James. **_

_**Jnetrich- Logan can be a very good teacher when he wants to be. He just hides it very well. I hope you're still anticipating the next chapter. **_

_**A.R.13 - Thanks. I did try to update this quickly, but I was distracted by everything and anything. Ranging from Hugh Jackman to Skype, alcohol, painting my nails, kidnapping plans, Youtube and Morecambe and Wise. **_

_**Comic - I actually thought you had gone on a long bender over the bank holiday. Your husband sounds like a catch. He might be able to cook but can he peel a potato with an adamantium claw and the arch of an eyebrow? I'm sure everyone likes Hugh Jackman, what isn't there to like? LOL **_


	5. Pay Attention To The Vegetable

**If it was possible this story would be rated higher, much higher. I'm going to crank up the content in each chapter from here on out. Just put it this way - If this was a stereo your ears would be bleeding and you'd be slapped with a noise pollution Asbo. Come to think of it, that's a stupid analogy, but I'm sure you grasp the point I'm trying to make. This Rogan will be beyond the safety and comfort zone of an M.**

**And if you're enjoying this fic, then please send me your Hugh Jackman kidnapping ideas. It seems to have gone quiet on the kidnapping front. I blame the World Cup, BrownEyedDevil's early mornings and our crap internet connections.

* * *

**

**Pay Attention To The Vegetable **

He was pumped, fired up, stimulated. However you liked to describe it, he was there living it, driving and spurring his body through the rigorous work out. Sweat glistened on his body, his plain white cotton wife-beater clinging to his muscular frame and hugging at his torso.

Logan's brawny arms wrapped themselves around the throat, muffling the scream and he smirked to himself when he heard the _snap _of another bastards neck breaking. The move itself wasn't difficult to master; you needed a significant amount of leverage and skill, add the adamantium, his ass, and the chumps he was fighting against, then you were cooking on fucking gas.

The body instantly vanished in a haze of sketchy pixels and he mentally clocked another point to the Wolverine. This Danger room simulation Hank had created for him was bordering on the line of slaughter. He'd rather call it child's play though. It was too easy, Stryker's soldiers were ill-equipped to deal with such a threat. And Logan was the best at what he did. From fucking a female to fucking someone up, he excelled.

He stopped in his tracks, leaning against a wall and his nostrils flaring. There were three scents, all male and they were walking right into his trap. Just a few more steps, he could take them out and get his hands on Stryker. Homing in on the sounds of their footsteps, and their footsteps only he began to steady his breathing.

They were so close, and then they were on top of him. Two sets of claws ripped through his knuckles and he leapt into action. Then he immediately stopped, arched an eyebrow and growled. " Damn it, was that really necessary?" The corridor had completed melted from view and Logan was surrounded by four familiar walls, plus he was annoyed… Annoyed and a little wired. His muscles were still twitching in anticipation for the fight.

"I'd say it was completely necessary, Logan." Storm's voice echoed off the walls and he rolled his eyes. "Stop making faces." She added hastily, the rustling of paper crackling over the speaker. "If you didn't keep avoiding me, I wouldn't be down here now."

"I weren't avoidin' you." He snorted in self defence, folding his arms and gazing up at the glass. "I was just busy."

"Of course, how stupid of me. You were far too busy pimping your body out to former students."

So she had finally found out, what did he care? Logan figured she was probably pissed about learning the gossip twenty four hours after he'd first propositioned Marie. He stood by his actions though and desperately wanted to return to his simulation. He was all charged up and had no way to physically release the tension.

"She's of age, Ro and you told me to do somethin' about it."

Now it was her turn to snort and rather rudely if you asked him. "I asked you to intervene, not offer to sleep with the girl!"

"Yeah well, I do things a little differently." Logan replied matter-of- factly. "You mind switchin' it back on, I was all in and close to hittin' my best."

He could almost hear the steam shooting from her every orifice and it amused him to no end. It really was time to find a hobby, or start taking his ass to those bars that catered for the cage fighters. There had to be a few round here he could stomach for longer then a minute.

"How is offering someone with a sex dependency more sex going to help matters?" Storm demanded over the tannoy. "Things as they stand are bad enough. Especially without you adding your kinky needs to this."

Logan glared, huffed in an entirely manly manner and cracked his knuckles. "I've told you before, Storm, I ain't God damn kinky!" He barked, slowly but surely reigning his temper back in. "And, I'd rather the kid fuck the daylights outta me, then one of those assholes. She won't catch nothin' from my dick neither."

Ororo sighed, and he took that as a good sign. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into, Logan. This is going to be tough and I really don't think this is the right answer."

"I can do tough, darlin' and I'm gonna make sure she snaps outta this with everythin' intact."

"And you're sure that Rogue will listen to you?"

Like he even needed to answer that. Of course she would listen to him, he'd offered her the chance of a lifetime after all. But why had the kid never tried to jump him? What was wrong with his body exactly? He didn't normally disgust women, they flocked to him when he arched one of his brows, or winked. Even the smirk did it for them and before he could utter the words; 'Back the fuck off, Bub. I saw her first' The woman would be sitting in his lap and he'd be getting hard. That was his dicks way of saying all aboard who's coming aboard and enjoy the ride, the next ones going to cost you.

"Yeah, she'll listen to me." He responded cockily, smirking up at her.

"Oh, so you're the one taking her out tonight then?" Storm cried happily. "That's a weight off my mind. When Jubilee came to find me, I have to admit that I was worried with all this talk of standing on street corners. I thought that Rogue had… Logan, where are you going?"

Logan traipsed towards the exit, with one thought in mind and one thought only. "I'm off to ride a mattress."

* * *

He didn't knock on her door, the pleasantries between the two had been severed as soon as she'd knocked back his fucking offer. There he was bending over backwards for her, taking time out of his day to pick her ass up and she was going to stand on a fucking street corner. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen.

Seriously, there were so many things wrong with that idea he didn't know where to start.

Logan slammed the door shut behind him and waited for her to appear. Marie was in the bathroom, he could hear her humming to herself and it was some kind of upbeat, cheery crap that he hated. Her head poked out from behind her door and she frowned at him toothbrush in hand.

"Don't tell me," She mumbled wiping the toothpaste from her lips and strolling over hips swinging. The kid was wearing a simple pair of blue on white striped pyjamas, and they smelt of the Ice-Dick. She must have been wearing his cast offs for one womanly reason or another, and none of them made any sense to him.

Her pants were hanging loosely under her hips and he could detect a tuft of dark hair flowing over the waistband of the material, teasing him, calling out to him. It was there for the Wolverine's taking, but he stood firm and reluctantly drew his eyes away from the area, and settled on the spot where the top three buttons of her shirt were undone. "You've decided to withdraw the offer and you feel so uncomfortable with the situation, that you're going to leave."

She was being sarcastic, there was no doubt about it. The sarcasm was rolling off her in waves and he opened his mouth to call her on it, only to have Marie place a finger against his lips. "Shh, if you want to leave, I can't stop you. But, before you go, do me a favour…"

His eyes widened when her busy hands began to unbuckle his belt. There were no words uttered between the two of them, Logan mind was only concerned about the girl unbuttoning his jeans. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, winked at him and roughly tugged the denim down to his knees.

He could feel the Wolverine stirring inside of him, his senses sharpening to her yearnings. Their bodies met, and his length swept across her covered thigh. He groaned at the tender touch, her fingers stroking his impaler and pleasuring away the tension from his body. "And slip this on now you're hard."

Logan's eyes snapped open and he glanced down. His jeans were still around his ankles and Marie smirked at his hardness, her teeth ripping the edge of the condom packet open. She placed it in his open palm and glared at him impatiently. "I haven't got all day, Logan. Do you need a little help putting it on?"

_The cocky little shit, she really has changed these past months and I like it. Her new attitude turns me on, the girl has grit __and is one hell of a Southern spitfire. She might lose that attitude once I'm through with her though. Marie ain't got any idea what she's getting her cute ass into. _

He handed her back the condom and furrowed his brow. "You think you call the shots here?" He grunted, his eyes burning a hole through her shirt.

Marie shrugged her shoulders and toyed with her hair. "How can I take you seriously when you're standing like that?" She asked him, nodding at his erection and thrusting him onto the bed. "No condoms fine by me. It's not the first time a guy's refused to wear one." And proceeded to tug her pyjama bottoms down over her thighs, openly flaunting her lack of underwear to his hungry eyes, fingers and dick.

She had been fucking guys without giving two shits for her health, and that rattled him. Didn't they teach safe sex in this fucking mansion? That was why there were so many young girls's with a dozen kids, the schools had failed. He wasn't about to pull up his jeans and start marching outside City Hall demonstrating… Shit, he'd probably fathered most of those brats.

Marie silently straddled him, and shook her head when he attempted to remove her top. "It's a quickie." She whispered huskily in his ear, scooping her hair out of her face and tying it in a loose ponytail. "Just one for the road."

He raised an eyebrow and studied her face. His dick was aching to slide deep inside her and spill it's warm, sticky seed. The Wolverine wanted to mark it's territory and he knew that their friendship was well and truly a thing of the past. There were fuck buddies, ones that could separate their feelings when they exchanged fluids and explored each others bodies… The Wolverine was not a fuck buddy.

Once that line was crossed there was no turning back, he demanded complete obedience from his mate. She would be there by his side and he would take what was his. There was no grey area, Wolverine only worked in black and white.

He attempted to bury the feral feelings and concentrate on the girl straddling his thighs. But his mind was haunted by flashes of kids with Marie's hair and his eyes. He needed to slip on a fucking condom and shifted her onto his stomach, ignoring her protests. "Give me a second." He growled in frustration, sure that his balls were close to exploding.

Logan didn't need to eyeball his own penis, he had done this so many times without even looking. He rolled the condom on as quickly as his hands would allow him and deposited Marie back in place, smirking as she gasped at the contact.

She immediately began rocking back and forth, both were in perfect rhythm and he rested his hands on her hips. He gradually guided her into a faster pace, her eyes drifted closed and he clenched his teeth. They retained the movement, each party groaning in delight, his fingers bruising her hips.

She was tipping him over the edge, her body was grinding into him, he could hear her panting. His eyes flew open, Marie was crying out, his body was rigid, warm, there was a rush of heat in his stomach and he growled as the tension fluttered away.

The were both still, silent, catching their breaths and sweating. Logan felt like he'd been sucker punched, the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. He had exploded in her faster then any other conquest and he wanted a repeat performance. She wasn't a kid, the girl he had tried to shelter from the world was his fucking mate. She always had been, he was just too stupid to realise until now. He didn't care that she had an addiction, he didn't care about the Ice-Prick, nothing mattered as long as she was his, and his only.

Wolverine loved to fuck women and getting his rocks off was part of his DNA. He wanted her, she wasn't going to stray and eye another man, Marie was his.

_I've got to keep these dominant feelings in check, I ain't an animal. This isn't a long-term thing, I'm just being a friend and helping her butt out. Jesus, that was something else though. I wonder how she feels about handcuffs? Shit, don't fucking go there. _

Marie leaned down, the perspiration still visible on her forehead. "That was pretty good." She told him, her lips brushing against his cheek. "Even if I did all the work. Jubilee always told me to pay attention to the vegetable and Logan, your vegetable was one of the best my pussy has ever sampled." With a chaste kiss to his cheek and a swift complaint about stubble rash, she eased herself off him. "You can let yourself out, I need to get ready. Oh my God, it's almost six!"

Logan glared at the ceiling, listening to her pottering about on the bathroom. What the hell had just happened here, had his ass just been used? The fury was pounding in his veins and he sat up, yanking the used condom off his less then satisfied dick. He crushed it in his hand, felt the white fluid decorate his inner palm and sighed irritatedly, "Aw, fuck."

* * *

_**And that was my very first try at a straight (No humour) sex scene, it's also the shortest chapter so far. Okay, so a little humour snuck in there when I wasn't looking. LOL **_

_**Now, the next chapter is up to you. Would you like more of these scenes, less of them, have I scarred you for life? Is a dominant, feral, kinky Logan with a set of handcuffs something that you want? Would you like to join in with the kidnapping plans, are you a pilot, do you have basement that we can hide Hugh Jackman in? LMFAO **_

**_Thank-you to the reviewers: Fla, dulcesweet, comic, my kidnapping accomplice, jnetrich, Yank, Raven and maniac. _**

**Anybody else think that Marie is a robot without any feelings? She's just slept with Logan and doesn't seem all that fussed... The girl has obviously been driven mad by all that bedroom time with Bobby. **


	6. I Never Said I Was The Prettiest

_**This chapter almost killed me. Just ask the Yank and the German if you don't believe me. It took me forever to write and my Rogan muses kept abandoning me in my hours of need. I accidently wrote a certain scene from Marie's POV and decided to carry on writing that way. So this is not in Logan's POV. **_

_**Also, if England don't win their next match tomorrow... Or today seeing as it's gone midnight. You won't hear from me for a while. I'm going to have a major breakdown if they have their arses handed to them by Slovenia, and get sent home in disgrace. Seriously, the last match was awful, awful, awful... It was one of those moments where I was embarrassed to be English. Just like when the Eurovision song contest is on, or Tim Westwood opens his gob. **_

_**The shiny reviewers: immi, Fla, Raina, Starlight, Jinx, Yank, The German Kidnapper, Leah, Incognito, Comic and Raven - Thank you all! **_

* * *

**I Never Said I Was The Prettiest**

She gazed in the mirror, scrutinizing every inch of her face. Those dark circles were a new addition, a very unwanted addition and her eyes, they were dull, lifeless, without soul, or light. Her parents would be ashamed of her, Jubilee was tearing her hair out, and Logan… No, she couldn't think about his reaction.

Her heart hammered in her chest, the knot in her stomach tightened with every other thought, and the desperation in her eyes betrayed her multiple needs.

Sex.

Fornication.

A quick screw.

Mating.

A hearty fuck.

Orgasms.

Masturbation.

Erotic movies.

Porn magazines.

Nakedness.

Touching.

Marie hadn't noticed the change at first. It wasn't as though she woke up one day and decided that her goal in life would be to jump every male that she came into contact with. Bobby had been drifting away from her, the sex had dried up, and she developed urges.

Urges had leapt to obsessions, and before she knew it, here she stood in front of a fractured mirror, skimming over her fractured life. There had to be easier ways to satisfy herself for another night, but Logan's offer was a little too close to home.

Okay, so she had sampled the menu before leaving the mansion for the night. It was rushed, clumsy and she hadn't cried before, during, or after. That was a welcome relief. She was detached from her emotions and the Vodka was a God send.

She wasn't normally a drinker, but after sleeping with Logan something had changed deep in side her, and it needed silencing. She wanted more, so much more. More sex, harder, faster and longer then she had ever experienced. Her body wanted to be claimed, dominated, controlled and explored… Pushed to the brink of spontaneous human combustion, only to be reeled back in by a calloused, strong, steel-like hand caressing her folds.

That had to be the Vodka, it just had to be. Because the client sitting on the edge of the motel bed, the one with the shock of silver hair and lazy eye wasn't it. He wouldn't make her scream, she probably wouldn't be gripping his strong arms and begging for more. There would be no exchange of insults, he wouldn't smirk at her and hitch an eyebrow. The man didn't have any eyebrows and that saddened her, forcing her to pour more Vodka into her glass.

The money was another aspect that she enjoyed. The pay depended on the act and the act depended on the client. She was crawling closer to Anchorage with every other guy she slept with and the tips of her fingers could almost brush against the snow capped mountains. Marie was going to live her dream even if it killed her, she would get there. Yes, she'd have sex on one of those mountains.

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Kitty?"

The client's voice almost made her retch and she clutched the sides of the porcelain sink. The vodka was finally doing it's job, her head was swimming and she glanced up, peering into the mirror.

_I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. It's no different to any other time. He's only older and uglier. Not everyone's beautiful, this isn't Beverly Hills and I need the cash. Think of the cash, Marie. My vagina needs this too. I need this, I need the feeling… If only Prada could bottle the feeling, the release, the orgasm. _

_Marie, Marie, Marie, pull yourself together. Do this and you can buy another Gucci handbag, a pair of shoes, and some sunglasses… I'll wear them all in Anchorage, on that mountain while pounding my latest victim into the snow. _

_He isn't that old. His face has as many dimples and lines as a normal cock, just like a tree trunk. I wonder if you can count the rings and estimate his age too?_

"Kitty, you haven't died have you? " The client questioned her through the locked door. "That's happened to me before. I probably shouldn't have stabbed her so many times, but the bitch kept me waiting."

She blinked at her reflection and frowned. No, she must have imagined that last sentence, the Vodka was pretty strong and her hair was standing on end. "I'll be out in a minute." She replied, attacking the stubborn strand of hair with her palm, and stumbling back.

Damn it, was she drunk? Her legs weren't working in the correct way, her vision was cloudy, and it was far too hot in the bathroom. She gulped the remainder of the vodka down and dropped the glass to the ground. Now she was ready, the nerves were cadged and her eyes sparkled with drunken promises that she needed to fulfil.

Marie eyed the heavy lock with disgust and fought to open it. What was it with locks in this motel, why didn't they ever work? Oh, she was turning it the incorrect way… Everything seemed incorrect, wrong, or bizarre tonight ever since she had crept out of the mansion.

She didn't need to creep, she was old enough to come and go as she pleased, but leaving the mansion to prostitute her body… Oh boy, that wasn't how you opened a door and made an entrance. How did she get on the floor? Those stupid, stupid legs of hers. What was the point of having a pair if they didn't work?

The glint of an object almost blinded her, and she squinted against the light. Gazing up at the stars, no that wasn't a star, in fact it looked an awful lot like a switchblade. "That's going to cost you extra." She mumbled, fighting against the comfort of the carpet and trying to sit up.

The client began to pace, flicking his blade open, then closed and repeating the action. "You sluts are all the same!" He bellowed, his face contorted with rage, crouching in front of her.

"That's not true. I have a friend who's a little perverse and kinky. I'd charge him extra too. Except he get's off on handcuffs, not…" Marie chewed her bottom lip, and gulped. The blade was being traced softly across her cheek bone. So softly, not a drop of blood was drawn. "That's a very pretty knife you have there."

She was well and truly hurtling out of her comfort zone at a break neck speed. All the fighting techniques she had been taught were lost in a haze of drunkenness, her eyelids were becoming heavier by the second and she only wanted to have sex.

"It's my knife, it's not pretty and it's slaughtered many a prettier girl then you."

"I never said I was the prettiest."

The client leaned closer, his body pinning her to the floor, his knife hovering close to her eye. "ENOUGH!" He ordered, a strand of silver hair tickling the tip of her nose. "I like my women silent. There's dignity in death and you will to be silent. Pray for your sins, pray to he who watches over you and beg for forgiveness."

_Oh God. Oh my God. Oh my dear God. I'm going to get slaughtered here in this room, because I couldn't keep my libido in check. I can't die, I haven't visited Anchorage yet. I'm not going to die here tonight, I'm not silent, I'm never silent and there's never any dignity in death. _

She licked her lips, inhaled sharply and screamed. Screamed for everyone of the client's victims that had been silenced, screamed for more vodka, screamed at her misjudgement and screamed for help. Her frustration boiled over, a hand covered her mouth and an elbow collided with her windpipe.

Marie fought for air, her legs kicking wildly, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. She caught sight of the knife, the client was chocking the life out of her body. He was far too strong, the adrenalin was fading, the blade was hurtling towards her, his knuckles were white. She was losing consciousness, whether it was the affects of the vodka she didn't know. She hoped it would be quick and painless, the fear gripped her, her eyes widened, a solitary tear trickled across her face. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with hate and a single word slipped from her lips, "Logan."

The knife was so close, she snapped her eyes shut and waited for the end. This was it, she was going to become one of those girls. The one's that died and evolved into a nation wide headline. People would pity her, others would scorn, call her names. Some would spit on her grave, gossip would spread, her parents would pray for her soul.

White dots, spots, flecks and specks floated in her diminishing vision. Her hearing was fading, there was a crash, snarling, his weight was ripped from her body. She coughed and spluttered, the oxygen making her giddy, relief overwhelming her body.

'Snikt'

There were shouts, growls, grunts, curses, thuds, thumps and a final harrowing cry. Silence. There was silence, and she passed out before her growling, ferocious, bloodied saviour turned his back on the client's broken, breathless, dead body.

* * *

The sound of water stirred her from the heavy duvet that she was curled under. Her brain was sludge, her hangover caused her to sigh and she gazed down at her body. She was still dressed in her silk negligee, and had no idea where she currently was.

There was one window and the sunlight flooded through the gaps in the curtains. It was tomorrow, not yesterday and today happened to be today. Oh God, where had yesterday gone?

This room took the open concept to another level entirely. The kitchen was in the bedroom, or was the bedroom in the kitchen? And there was a couch and a TV in here too. Floor boards, white walls, the paint was peeling in the corner and there were two doors, a plant, and a small pine table with two seats. Three iron radiators, an art deco ashtray and the ornate metal double bed she was sitting in… The bed creaked when she moved.

She wasn't in her motel any longer. The bed didn't creak there and that was yesterday. So where was she today? If it was today and not tomorrow already. Jesus, this really had fucked with her brain and what the hell had happened to her throat?

Marie attempted to eyeball herself under her chin, it didn't work and it caused her head to hammer in protest. That was the last time she touched vodka during a paid job. It was unprofessional to get shit faced and sleep the night away without getting your leg over. Did she get her leg over? Something had certainly happened, her body felt like it had been involved in a free-for-all orgy at the _Playboy _mansion.

The sound of the water vanished, and she kicked off the sheets and eyed the doorway. She assumed there was a bathroom in there and the other door should have been labelled 'Freedom, Fresh air and Full of hope.' Because she was all three, and was about to make a run from her one night stand.

Slipping out of the bed, she crept closer to the exit and wondered where the heck her clothes were. She must have had one wild night and began to envy herself. It sounded like fun and she hoped that the sex had been delightful.

Her hand was shaking, she tried in vain to unbolt the door and swore under her breath. She needed a key and didn't have any pockets. As she pondered leaping out of the window, or knocking out the one night stand with the ashtray, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and she squealed.

"You goin' somewhere, kid?"

She whipped around ready to shout and her eyes lapped up the glorious sight instead. He stood there with nothing but a black towel secured around his hips and an arched eyebrow. His wet hair was already bouncing back into it's usual style and he looked furious, but she wanted to screw him… Again.

Which would only be the second time, if she hadn't already screwed him twice last night. It was only the once, not that it mattered. Maybe it did matter, her mind seemed to think that it held some great importance, as did her… Why was he glaring at her like that?

"I guess you're not really a morning person." Marie announced lamely, folding her arms to stop herself from caressing his naked chest.

His eyes narrowed and he began to crowd her personal space. "I asked you a question." He growled, her body flushing as she shuffled further into the corner.

"And a fine question it was too."

"You. Stupid. Fuckin'…"

He appeared to be struggling to spit out his words and she stared at him, placing her hands on her hips in outrage. "That's not how we say good morning in the south."

She instantly regretted her choice of words. Maybe a blow job would have helped matters. Was she seriously thinking about sucking the Wolverine as he stood there spitting in rage?

_I think I actually am. You know, it really would help with his anger issues and he'd be more then welcome to carry on spitting. I think I read that somewhere before. The internet really is a gold mine when you feel certain urges in a certain area, that need certain attention. _

He dragged her out of the corner rather forcefully and she prayed that his towel would drop. "You, you're gonna see somethin' that oughta wipe the smile off your face." He growled, shoving her in the direction of the bathroom.

Marie tripped over his clothes on the floor, and ventured into the bathroom, battling against the steam. "Are you certain, as certain as I am over certain issues?" She croaked, squinting around her. "Because I certainly can't see past my nose in here."

She needed to either jump Logan, or search for someone with a penis soon. The ache was becoming unbearable and she couldn't even touch herself in present company… Unless he wanted to whip that towel off and plant himself inside her for an hour or ten.

Logan wiped at the bathroom mirror, and beckoned her over. "Stand there, tell me what you see."

Now that was unexpected. Where was the x-rated fun that she had envisioned? "Certainly." She replied, standing in front of him and gasping. There were angry bruises lining her throat, her skin was sallow, she looked on death's door. "I'm bruise fucking city!"

Before she had the chance to demand answers, the flashbacks loomed over her already crumbling mind. "Oh God." Marie muttered, watching Logan in the mirror. How much did he already fucking know? "I guess last night was a little crazy." It had been more then a little crazy, but that guy was a one off. Most clients were just in need of servicing.

Her response was the eyebrow and he growled under his breath. "You any God damn idea how close you came to gettin' your dumb ass killed?"

"I… Well, I.. Hey, wait a minute. I don't answer to anybody, this is my life, Logan and don't you forget it."

Now that was such a lame argument, she wanted to fall to her knees (Taking the towel with her of course) and cry in frustration, asking why God had doomed her to such a pathetic existence. This entire situation was fucked up and yet, she felt the warm sense of satisfaction that he didn't know about her job.

He blinked at her and snarled, his upper lip curling. "Get your ass on the bed."

A dazzling grin lit her face, and she couldn't get to the bed fast enough. He must have smelt her lust, and she was finally going to receive a rough lesson on sex from the master. Logan must have been skilled in that particular activity, you only had to look at his face and chiselled body to know that.

She leapt on the bed, bouncing as she fought to remove her negligee and slide between the sheets. Ignoring her still hung-over body, the same one that was battered and bruised, the Southerner flung her nightwear on the floor, and waited.

He followed her in, his eyes never leaving hers and busied himself opening a bedside drawer, much to Marie's annoyance. "Forget the protection, Logan and get rid of the towel."

Logan grumbled under his breath… Again and she smiled, her fingers walking across her thighs and galloping to the clasp of her bra. She was going to release her breasts and lure him in to the bed without the towel. Just like smugglers lured ships to their doom on the jagged rocks. "So, what is this place?"

"Just a place I rent." He growled in response, slapping a handcuff on her wrist and chaining her to the bed "You're part of the furniture."

Doing the perfect impression of a goldfish, Marie openly gawked at him. "You kinky bastard." She spluttered, secretly excited over the turn of events. "I don't think I want to screw you now."

The towel dropped to the floor, and she moaned, groaned and cringed.

"You might wanna rephrase that."

A minute later, she had watched him expertly roll the condom on and was still lost for words. Her cheeks flushed, her stomach was doing somersaults and she needed to leave.

"Free me, or I scream."

He smirked, his hands making quick work of her bra and she sighed, disappointed that he hadn't attacked the straps with his claws. Now that would have made her day, month, year and entire life. She would have given him a discount too.

Logan's thumbs toyed with her nipples and her body sunk into the mattress with each teasing touch. "Mark my words, you're gonna be screamin'." He informed her, tugging down her matching panties before mounting her. "And you like the cuffs."

"Up Yours." She snarled, the handcuff rattling against the bedpost. His weight crushed against her body, goosebumps prickling her skin, the heat radiating between her thighs. It burned; her mind a rush of impure thoughts, feelings and desperation. She needed a man's touch, craved his length to penetrate her burning, tormented impulses.

The stubbornness crashed around her ears, colliding with the mattress that had become her prison. Marie willingly parted her legs, the shuddering moan growing in pitch and velocity.

She wanted to beg, plead, claw at him. Instead her tongue swept over his nipple and Logan grunted his approval, returning the favour.

His pupils dilated, his eyes darkened, and he slammed in to her. Through the crease of an animalistic smirk, his husky whisper brought her back to earth. "No, darlin', up yours."

Their bodies entwined, she wrapped her ashen, flowing legs around his nakedness.

Her biting reply died on her bruised lips. He was claiming her entire mouth, pounding her desperation away with every meaningful thrust.

The minutes passed and he was the best she had screwed. Her body was familiar with TV dinners, grilled cheese sandwiches and processed meat. The finest cut of sirloin steak was throbbing, sweeping, and gorging on her slickness.

She didn't need to communicate with the use of words. Her sensual moans were all her body had to offer. Marie rocked her hips against his expert grinds, Logan growled and slumped against her chest, catching his breath. She melted into his arms, his name escaping her lips. The friction and heat in contrast with the coolness between her thighs.

"That was…" Marie struggled to string her thoughts into a coherent sentence. The intense satisfaction continuing to hum from every inch of her clammy skin. "It was, it was just…"

Logan traced his thumb across her jaw line, his eyes flickering a few shades darker. "You'll earn yourself a repeat performance if you do what you're told." He explained to her, instantly bucking when she parted her lips to argue.

She gasped at the intimate contact. It was so soon after the initial act and she felt her muscles tightening around his penis once more. Her free hand plunged to her thighs, but Logan caught her wrist and shook his head.

"You don't touch yourself without my permission."

Marie snorted in response, her eye roll infuriating His Royal Fuck-ness further. Her type weren't pulled by the skirt and ordered around. She had outgrown that stage of her life. She no longer lived to please… Unless that signified pleasing herself with a free finger and a spare five minutes.

His face was masked with a scowl and her eyes widened. "You're serious, aren't you!" She cried, her arm going limp in his tightening grip.

"Too right I'm serious." Logan snapped in response, rolling off her and removing the condom. "We got ourselves a deal and I aim to keep it for the both of us."

She huffed at his back. "Deal, what deal!"

He pulled on his jeans, and fastened his belt in place. "You took me up on my offer."

That wasn't an explanation, it was a fucking invitation to piss him off further. "Well, do you know what I think about your deal?" She cried, parting her legs and thrusting her hand deep inside herself. Okay, that hurt. She really did need to trim her nails if she was going to attempt this again. "Go suck on that, Wolverine."

His face grew darker as she played away and he marched to the bed, unlocking the cuff that had her imprisoned to the bed.

Ha, she had beat the mighty Wolverine at his own game.

Instead of cheering, she yelped when he dragged her off the bed, twisted the handcuff chain around the radiator. She found both her hands in cuffs, her naked ass on the floor and her arms restrained behind her back.

With a curt nod, he returned to fetch his boots and slipped his wife beater on. Marie could only drool as she mourned the loss of her sharp nails. "Very funny." She scoffed, staring at the dried, caked on blood decorating his clothes. "You can let me go now."

Logan's hand dug deep in his pocket and he produced a wad of notes. "How much?" He demanded, traipsing over to her, his boots stopping inches from her toes.

She visibly paled, her eyes darting to his feet. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't."

Marie couldn't reply, the tears were threatening to fall and she wanted to rub at her eyes and blame the dust, but the words wouldn't form. For the first time in months she felt ashamed. It didn't matter that Jubilee knew, or if Storm had an inkling. What did matter to her was the look in his eyes when he threw the dollar bills at her and turned his back in disgust.

"Did you kill him?"

"I've got stuff to sort out." He grunted, and with the slam of a door, he left her alone, handcuffed and distraught.


	7. Submission

_**Lately I've written far too much humour, not that there's anything wrong with that. I just want… No, I demand some darkness. I decided I wanted to explore the animalistic inside of Logan, and my, oh my, what a delicious animal that is. **_

_**I'm not saying I want to eat the animal. Only that I need to write about it, and kidnap it, ship it to England and lock it in my garden shed. I guess I'd rather have a feral mutant in my shed, then more tools. What do I need tools for anyway? I'm not the female equivalent of Tim The Toolman Taylor, and I definitely don't want to be, kidnap or share a bed in a garden shed with him. **_

_**Okay, this A/N is running away from me now. All I wanted to say is: If you don't like darkness and the thought of dominance, nakedness, handcuffs, biting remarks that were meant to hurt, sex addictions and rather graphic sex scenes. Then this story probably isn't for you, which is a shame, but everyone has different tastes. **_

_**I'm well aware that the last sentence made me sound as though I have a great many kinky, erotic, bizarre tastes, and I'm struggling to rephrase it. Sadly every time I do, it makes me sound worse, if that is at all possible. So, I'll shut up now and thank the reviewers.**_

_**A very special thank you to: The Reserved Reader, asd, notashamedtobesoilyfan, comic, starlight, Yank, Fla and jnetrich.

* * *

**_

**Submission

* * *

**

Logan felt something, but it wasn't guilt, that ship had already sailed. In fact, the ship was destined to hit a fucking iceberg off the coast of Canada right about now. It would sink without a trace and the captain would go down with the boat. There would be no survivors, this wasn't a _Hollywood _movie, it wasn't even a throwback to a bygone era, and he liked Canada…

He didn't need a drink, he'd already hit the bottle and savoured every last drop. He needed a leak, sure, that wasn't the feeling though. It was a burning sensation flushing through his veins, strangling, throttling and suffocating his every waking moment. The Wolverine was angry.

She'd nearly died - His mate had almost died.

_She isn't my mate. Where the fuck do these thoughts come from? I made her a promise, that's all. I kept that promise, I killed for that promise and I smell like death because of that promise. _

He gazed down at his hands, and traced a couple of fingers across his knuckles.

The bastard had got off lightly, he'd died a more humane death then many that crossed him. His blood had splattered the walls, but his death had been one of swift, cold justice. That time at the Drake's, Logan said he taught art, and the state the motel room had been in when he left was the type of art that grabbed people by the balls.

Resting a hand on the mantle piece above the fire, he produced a rolled up bunch of notes from his pocket and threw them into the flames. The flickering bittersweet flames danced in front of his eyes, engulfing the face of another indiscriminate president. He only watched as the bills burnt, this was his alone time.

He heard her before she entered, she was wearing those heels again, the ones that infuriated his ears.

Storm was in the room, standing behind him and he could smell her uneasiness at the current situation, but he stayed silent on the matter, he couldn't form any words.

"What you did, Logan," She sighed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I understand why you felt you had to. A man died, but many lives were saved, including Rogue's."

He turned to face her, arching an inquisitive brow. "What do you mean?" He demanded, shaking her hand free from his shoulder, "I didn't tell you what happened."

"It wasn't difficult to work out, after what Bobby told me, and with the news reports…"

"Drake?"

Storm sat on the couch in front of the fire, rubbing her palms together and drawing the blanket snugly to her body. "He followed Rogue last night, I asked him to. Why do you think I knew where to send you? I'd suspected this for a while, but I had no evidence and couldn't accuse her with wild accusations, you know what she's like. She would have denied them, maybe even disappeared for good."

It all made sense, he hadn't questioned until now how Storm knew where to find Marie. He was thankful she had looked after his girl for so long, but that was his job now.

He grunted in reply and continued to stare at the fire, knowing that the kid would never vanish from under his nose again, he wouldn't let her.

"What are the bags for?" She asked him.

Still he kept his eyes on the fire. "Figured the kid would need some clothes while we were away."

"You're _both_ leaving, but where on earth will you go? You have a home here, Logan, both of you do."

Logan didn't answer, he didn't need to. Storm knew his mind was made up, it had been from the time he'd carried Marie's broken body from the motel room. His thoughts had been truly cemented into place after he had found a couple of hundred dollars stuffed in a sock drawer in the kid's room. He automatically knew where it had come from, she'd been doing this for some time and it infuriated him.

He had torn her room apart, clawed the mattress, attacked the walls, and still he felt no better. But burning the cash she had earned, that soothed his soul and calmed him into a restless lull.

"Where is she, Logan?"

He sighed deeply and glanced at Storm, "She's safe. That's all you need to know."

Ororo left the room without a word, and the silence pleased him. He needed to be alone, to think and plan his next move. He just hoped he was doing the right thing, his actions had now dwarfed the soppy tough love excuse and it secretly turned him on to know she was at his disposal.

Standing in front of the spitting fire, Logan and his inner animal merged, both intent on making a new promise. Each knew that from this day forth, nobody else would lay a finger on their mate. She belonged to them and she would be protected until the end of time.

* * *

Logan unlocked the door, juggling the many bags and pizza box from hand to hand. Kicking the door closed, he dumped the bags and walked to the kitchen, eyeing his naked mate all the way.

_She is not my mate, how many times do I have to tell myself that? I must be sick in the head, or something. Her name's Marie and I've screwed her twice. Once with her on top, once with me on top. Then handcuffed her to the radiator because I'm in charge, she needs to learn that. She doesn't do anything, go anywhere, or even touch herself without my permission. If she wants to cry sex addiction, and sell her body, then she plays with the big boys. And by 'big boys,' I mean, me. _

He placed the warm pizza box onto the kitchen counter, and traipsed over to the girl, his heavy boots crushing the hastily thrown dollar bills from his earlier exit. Silently crouching in front of her, he studied every inch of her face and was taken aback when she scowled.

Logan was searching for submission, but only found pure defiance in her eyes.

She wasn't ready to submit to his authority, that much was certain. If he let her leave here now, she'd be back to her old tricks in no time. They had enough tinned food to last them for a few weeks and the rent had already been paid in full. This was an opportunity for the both of them; He could keep his promise and she would learn to change.

The swell of her breasts caught his attention and he regretted not demanding she dress before he handcuffed her. It was almost too much for his inner urges; the ones that wanted to claim and thoroughly bite, nip and lick the girl sitting in front of him.

Her face was tear stained, yet he detected a strong scent of lust directed towards him. Marie rattled the cuffs and bit her lower lip, he knew what she wanted. Knowing made him the dominant one, he was in complete control of the situation and she was at his mercy.

Standing to his feet, Logan bolted the door shut and pocketed the key, he wasn't going to take any chances. He knew her too well, she would try to run once he released her.

The call of freshly baked pizza lured him back to the kitchen counter and he opened the box, taking a slice. As he chewed on a piece of pepperoni, he watched her, she was watching him. Her eyes were devouring his every move and he guessed she was hungry for both food, and sex.

"I wanna know everythin'." He told her gruffly, stuffing the pizza crust into his mouth and swallowing it without barely a thought for indigestion.

Marie shifted her legs into different positions and angles, giving Logan the perfect view of her womanly thatch. She finally deciding on crossing them, much to his relief and then continued to glare. "I'm uncomfortable, now let me up."

He shook his head, tapping his fingers against the pizza box. "You know as well as I do, that ain't happenin'."

She scoffed at him and fought against the handcuffs, her anger spiking. "You're such a smug asshole."

Logan was far from smug, he wasn't even fucking smirking and he told her so. This wasn't just for his benefit, it really wasn't. If that had been the case, she would have still been handcuffed to the bed and he wouldn't be standing here eating fucking pizza.

"Just start talkin'."

"I like to have sex, what else is there to say exactly?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he leant against the counter. "Maybe that you're, I dunno, sellin' your dumb ass on street corners to the highest bidder." He grumbled in reply, feeling a stab of smugness as her face fell. "Or did that and the cash in your fuckin' sock drawer slip your mind?" He hoped she'd soon learn that she couldn't keep anything from him or his nose.

Her eyes darted to the floor. "Storm said I needed a job. So I applied to work in an office part time. That's where the money's from."

Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Quit playin' me for a fool." He growled, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and slamming it down in front of Marie. Sitting in the chair, he leant forward and sniffed her scent. "Just what I thought. Grade A bullshit."

"And this coming from the holier-than-thou Wolverine?" Marie uttered softly, her lips twitching. She looked up, cocking her head to the side. "You've paid for sex before and don't try to deny it. I have your memories, remember?"

He sighed deeply, stretching out his legs and leaning back in the chair. "We're not here to talk about me. I know my damn faults, but I ain't got a problem with listin' them for you." Resting his feet on the cast iron radiator, he buried his hand in his jacket pocket.

"You're kinky. That would be at the top of the list, wouldn't it?"

Thankful he had found a cigar, Logan silently lit it. He snapped the lighter closed and chewed on his cigar, the list of his flaws on the tip of his tongue. "That don't make the top ten, no." He grumbled, determined to focus on her face as he talked. "Though you'd feature heavily in the list."

Marie's eyes widened. "How am I one of _your _faults?" She scoffed, the surprise evident on her face.

_I care about her, that's why. She'd figure pretty much on every number of the list. I guess she's not a kid anymore. She certainly ain't the kid I met on the road. I never would have fucked her if she had have been. I don't get it, usually I couldn't care less about people's personal lives. At least not enough to drive me to this. You'd never catch me with Storm in this position. _

"You're just that type of girl." Logan responded matter-of-factly, rolling the cigar between the rough skin on his fingers and flicking the ash to the ground. The thought of fetching the ash tray never entered his mind.

"Way to flatter a girl, Logan."

"If you want sweet nothings whispered in your ear, you've got the wrong guy." He muttered, taking a deep drag of his cigar. His eyes were busy trailing the smooth, pale skin from the collar bone to the curve of her hips, and he sighed. "I guess I could give it a try." He added with the hint of a tightly controlled smirk.

She smiled slightly, her lust becoming apparent to both his nose and crotch. Logan knew she was enjoying this game, maybe a little too much, but he would deal with that later. It wasn't often he was encouraged to think with only his cock. This would have been an early Christmas present if the hooker label wasn't hanging from Marie's left nipple. It was all in his head. He knew there's wasn't really a label there, it was just his brain reminding him of what was at stake.

"You're the first one I've ever let ride me."

He watched her mull over his words and frown up at him. "That wasn't what I had in mind exactly. Where was the gushing and romance? Did you even bother bringing me back a bunch of flowers?"

There was the humour. Their humour. They had always shared a bond and it mostly circled around their ease around each other and the banter. "What you gonna do with flowers? You can't eat them. So I bought you pizza instead. You could do with pilin' on a few pounds." The chuckle died on his lips and he glanced at his hands. "You any idea how close you came to dyin' last night?"

"Logan, can't you just drop it?"

"No, I fuckin' can't!"

Marie squeezed her eyes shut, tapping her bare foot against the floor. "It makes me feel like I'm worth something." She whispered, the smell of self pity drifting through the air. "Bobby wouldn't even have sex with me for free. But others will and they will pay, too. They treat me with respect."

"Respect?" Logan repeated in disbelief. "You think they respect you? Jesus Christ, Marie. You're just a piece of damn meat to them. They're gonna go back to their buddies and tell stories about how easy you were."

"They wouldn't do that. I only pick the nice ones."

He groaned into his hands, shifting his feet from the radiator to the floor. "Look, all men are bastards, even the nice ones. It don't matter if they pay or not, they're fuckin' bastards. And what the hell was that last night? He sure as fuck weren't nice." She nodded her head at his ramble and he crouched in front of her again. "Now, you about ready to listen to me this time?"

"Yes." She answered softly, biting her lip.

There were all the notable signs of submission in her body language and he cupped her face with his hands. "Just so you know, I don't have a problem doin' this again if you think you know better." He warned her, a growl rumbling in his chest. "Though I'd prefer if you were wearin' clothes next time."

Marie nudged his leg with her thigh, and he more then happily allowed his weight to crush her body. "Dually noted, Logan." She whispered huskily in his ear, nipping at his ear lobe.

Stopping short of taking her right there on the floor while she was still handcuffed, he frantically searched his jeans pocket for the key. "You know," He admitted gruffly, sniffing her scent a few times do be sure. "I'd say you need a shower."

Even though their scents were mixed. He could still detect the whiff of the asshole from last night on her skin and it did little to rouse an erection. "Fuck it." Logan snarled, unable to find the key. Unsheathing his claws, he sliced through the handcuffs in an instant. "I've got another pair around here anyway."

Scrambling to her feet, Marie eyed him with amusement. "What happened to the fuming, growling and thoroughly pissed off Wolverine?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder as she slowly made her way to the bathroom.

"You'll be meetin' him in ten seconds if you don't haul your ass into that shower pronto." He shot back, following closely behind her and licking his lips at the way her hips swung.

_It's about time the dominant Wolverine had some fun with his submissive mate. Damn it, she's isn't my… Why keep fighting it? I'm a man of the world, and I've heard, seen and done crazier shit then this in my time. I guess there are worse things and I care about her. She won't be fucking any other guy either if she's mine. I could live with that. Jesus, look at her waiting for me. Yeah, I can definitely live with this. _


	8. Mine

_**I do not dare actually tell you all how long this single chapter has taken me to write. There are many people and distractions I could blame, mainly those of the real life, annoying variety but... If I begin to ramble, you'll never shut me up. **_

_**This chapter is sponsored by the slab of Hershey's milk chocolate that was alive and still breathing as of two hours ago. Sadly I ate it all. Yes, all of it. All to myself while writing the last half of what you are about to read. I really do dread to think how many calories I have just polluted my body with. But God, did it taste good. So thank you, ady/Mrs. David Tennant/Yank/Yak!**_

_**Yet again I'm going to mention the new Rogan board we've launched. I've already seen a few people on there that I recognise, but come on Rogan fans - join, read and ramble. The link is on the homepage of my profile if anybody is interested in doing just that. And we don't all bite, I promise.**_

_**Thanks to everybody that reviewed the last chapter: Notsoashamed, Raven, Sic, Jnetrich, Miss. Reserved, Comic, OroroMunroe and Seph.**_

_**I did try so damn hard to write bastard Logan, but it isn't really happening. There might be a few flickers of His Royal Bastardness in this chapter though. This is supposed to be a dark Rogan afterall. Do expect strong language, thoughts of a sexual nature, sexual acts and of course more language. **_

_**The darkness will begin to cloud each chapter from now on. That's if my Rogan muse would stop abandoning me, and hiding under my bed in my hour of Rogan need! **_

_**Please enjoy and keep an eye on your chocolate stash – You never know when I may strike.**_

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**Mine**

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Wolverine slammed the toilet seat down and parked his ass on the porcelain. She was taunting him with the swing of her hips and the lazy, slack movements as she stepped into the shower, her long hair tumbling down her pale back. She was fucking taunting him. Taunting _him_, the motherfucking Wolverine.

Logan watched her, his thoughts making his cock hard, painful against the denim. One swift motion at his zipper and he could take her in the shower, pound her against the wall until the tiles came loose. Fuck her into oblivion, suck on her tits, make her scream his name. His inner animal demanded that he do everything in his power to banish the bruises on her skin and mark her as his. Bite her until she was begging him to stop, explore her folds with his tongue...

He stood, hell bent on doing something, anything to stop the ache in his crotch. Jerking off wasn't an option, he had her now, Marie. His Marie. She would wash away his tension with the roll of her tongue across his dripping cock.

"Logan?"

Her soft and sultry Southern voice snapped him out of his musings and he made the mistake of looking at her. Shit, she looked innocent suddenly, scared, unsure of his presence. He could smell her desperation mixed with lust and want. His eyes settled on the bruises across her collar bone and he growled.

"Shower and make it quick." He snapped, his eyes dancing over the thick mass of curls between her thighs. That special fucking place was calling him, singing his song and his fingers twitched.

Marie complied with his order, reluctantly, he noted, but it was compliance nevertheless.

Logan head began to swim with the stench of her lust and still he didn't move, he couldn't fuck her again. She hadn't earned it yet. His dick deep inside her was a reward for good, submissive behaviour. And he could read her body language like his favourite biker magazine. Probably masturbate to it, also.

She glanced at him, the annoyance of not being touched evident on her face.

"Kid, I said make it quick."

Her movements were now tightly controlled, her gaze hard, her shoulders stiff. She stepped under the torrent of warm water, reached for the bar of soap and he recognised the emergence of Rogue.

This was textbook behaviour where Marie was concerned and shit, he should have seen this coming. He hadn't seen the patten at first, not when she was around others and acting out. But after the first time they'd truly swapped furious words, fought over her stupid assed decisions she'd made on her first solo mission, Logan had come face to face with Rogue.

Except this time, he was the one in control and he wouldn't be getting slapped. No fucking way.

He smirked and shook his head. "If I'd known Rogue would be droppin' by, I'd have rolled out the red carpet." He snorted with his ever vocal eyebrow voicing it's own opinion on the matter.

A pair of sullen eyes met his amused face. "Standing there watching makes you a pervert, Logan. Did you know that?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. Again.

"I kinda like that title. You think I can get it on a mug?"

Logan bit back the shit eating grin that was threatening to break on his face. He smelt her anger at his remark and noticed her furiously working her hands and bar of soap closer towards her inner thighs.

"If you won't touch me, I'll find somebody that will. I'm not joking." She warned him. Although he took it more as a thinly veiled threat and the Wolverine didn't react well to being threatened.

A growl rumbled from his chest, the vibrations causing the ache in his cock to grow to an almost painful level. "Marie, you wouldn't get past me and your ass ain't leavin' this fucking apartment."

"You arrogant, pretentious bastard." She scoffed, flicking the wet hair from her face and turning the shower off. "There are ways to get past even the likes of _you_, Wolverine."

He stood silently for a moment or two, taking in her perfect body, his dick clawing to get free from his jeans. Logan contemplated how many times he could take her before she even knew what was happening, show her how he liked it rough... How she would like it, too. But he had to control his urges, at least for now. And when she quit acting like a horny, irritating little brat, he'd throw on a miners helmet and go a drilling and exploring for the G spot in her tight, hot and humid heat.

Logan snorted and turned his back on her."Those are some big fightin' words, darlin'."

_Just words and Marie certainly likes to run her mouth off. I don't usually pick the loud mouthed types, although I always share the sack with the screamers. _

As he stalked towards the door with a smirk on his face, a noise and the weight of her words slammed against his solid chest as he whipped around, catching the wet, soapy Marie in his arms.

She fought against his tightening grip as he captured both her wrists, securing them in his large hand and grinned down at her.

"Nice try, kid. But I'd say you're a little rusty, too slow and at a disadvantage."

Her eyes narrowed at his assessment and she tilted her head up, her jaw set in determination.

"Logan..." She whispered the heat rising in her voice and he felt her arms go slack. Her hips brushed against his and he growled, releasing her immediately. "Would you mind at all if I...?" Her hands were undoing his belt and Levi buttons before he had the chance to reconsider the no fucking her rule.

"If you _what_?" Logan's voice sounded gruffer then usual as her hand slipped into his jeans and she stroked at his favourite appendage. He was sure it was an appendage and would therefore be labelled as such. His dick was as big as his fucking limbs, and could be used as a spare leg if necessary.

Then Marie did something he never would have expected. She dropped to her knees, still naked and looking all the more fuckable with her lips at the tip of his very favourite appendage.

She took him, all of him and he was fucking enormous. No boasting on his part. He was big, _huge_ even. Logan wondered if when he pulled out he'd have her tonsils hanging from the tip of his cock.

If so, that would be a serious accomplishment and he might have to reconsider his stand on his career. Maybe a surgeon was the way to go. He would remove women's tonsils with his dick and get off on it at the same time.

After all, he loved getting sucked off. It was the same feeling he experienced when his hockey team thrashed their rivals or he smashed through another record in a danger room simulation...

"Goddamn, Marie." He hissed as she dragged her teeth over his stiffening length.

Okay, maybe not. This was even fucking better. She glanced up at him with those big brown eyes and he felt himself willing to do anything and everything for her. He'd bend over backwards, grow a handlebar moustache, become a vegetarian, sell his motorcycle and only wear pink if she asked him to.

_Fuck, she's good. So damn good at this. This is the best I've ever had. So many bimbos and barflies have sucked me off over the years, too many to remember. But they were only tacky whores with their bleach blond hair, false nails and left red lipstick stains on my damn dick. _

_This girl is different. I've watched her grow over the years, seen her make her mistakes, sat with her when she shed tears over some teenage drama I didn't give a shit about. Her whoring days are over with now. The only fucker that's going to have her lips wrapped around his cock, is me. Hell, I'm the biggest fucker going in more ways then one. Yeah, I'm being suggestive. Look at her, my Marie on her knees sucking my tension away. _

Logan found his voice. It had been waiting for his body to climax. He growled at the release, spilling all he had into her mouth, even staring her down until she swallowed. She did swallow and without complaint or a grimace. Only licked her lips and cocked her head to the side.

Tucking his well taken care of cock back into it's snug home and zipping it away from her unwavering gaze, he arched his eyebrow at her.

"You do some nice work."

Marie smiled. But it didn't reach her eyes. "I know."

She was too sure of herself and he didn't like that. He needed to put her squarely back in her place where she belonged. Logan didn't pull any punches and wasn't about to start now.

"How much do you charge for that service?" He demanded gruffly, scratching his jaw and reaching for his back pocket where he kept his wallet.

Sure enough, her anger instantly spiked and she clambered rather gracefully to her feet for somebody that had just had the added luxury of giving him a blow job. Women, he'd never understand them. They would screech and get all excited over petty shit like who had won a God awful singing contest on some reality show. But when they caught sight of his dick or he came in their mouth, nothing. And that just wasn't right.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, swinging her fist back and obviously hoping to catch him unaware. Maybe she was was too pissed to care, not that it mattered because his reflexes were second to none.

One swift movement and Logan had her arm twisted behind her, and her back crushing against his chest with a hand pressing down on her hip, keeping her firmly in place.

His lips brushed over her neck, teeth clamping down on her clammy skin, making her shudder and moan. Wolverine needed to mark his girl before a rule could be made. This had to be done his way. The scent of her lust caused him to smirk as he bit into the flesh, relishing in the knowledge that she loved the feral side of his personality.

"Yeah, that's right, Marie. You'll be fucking me, and only me. I ever smell another scent on you or catch you with another guy," He snarled, his fingers bruising her hip and licking the bite mark. "And I swear to God, I will gut the son of a bitch."

Logan wasn't sure what he would do to her, he didn't want to think about it. The thought of hurting Marie physically didn't sit right with him and made his blood run cold. But his temper was hard to tame at times and he couldn't... Wouldn't share her with anybody. Not for all the beer and handcuffs in the world.

She didn't answer him and he didn't much care. The message had gone through loud and clear, all she needed to do was glance at her reflection in the mirror, and his words would come crashing down on her. Marie was now marked, her lips were tainted with his taste and she was his.

"Go get dressed, darlin'." Logan commanded, pushing her gently away from him and ignoring the lust filled look she threw his way. After all, she could wait and it wasn't like either of them were going anywhere any time soon. "And eat some pizza. You'll need the energy."

A muttered curse of "Asshole" followed by the slam of the bathroom door caused him to snort and shake his head. The attitude she displayed turned him on to such a point, he was tempted to throw the fucking door open, ram his enormous dick down her throat, grab fistfuls of her hair and roar as he came.. Again. He liked to roar and really didn't do it as often as he should.

_She's right, I am an asshole. Hell, I'm surprised it took her so long to come to that conclusion. And I shouldn't be ramming anything anywhere... Well, not until she quits with the charming behaviour she's taken to displaying. I'm gonna keep my huge appendage to myself for now, no more getting sucked off if I can help it. Even if it would be time damn well spent._

Letting the cold tap run at the sink, Logan sighed as he heard the sound of the television volume being played with. His enhanced hearing detecting the sounds of Marie dressing until it was drowned out completely by a shitty music channel and equally shitty rock band.

Splashing his face with the water and hoping to crush his urges until he was ready to unleash them on a thoroughly well behaved and wanting Marie, he mulled over the past twenty four hours.

He had no idea where any of these dominating thoughts had originated from. It wasn't often that he acted like the true bastard he was. He just felt a strong connection to her, so fucking strong that he couldn't bare to let her leave his side. Especially not if she wanted to take a whistle stop tour of the city fucking men meaner then him for cash. Any men... Or women. He didn't even want her touching herself, let alone others.

Logan wanted to be the only person to touch her, taste her, feel her slick walls tightening against his dick as he took her roughly on the couch with her hands cuffed behind her back.

And then there were the handcuffs. When the fuck had all that started? He had no damn idea, he really didn't. Maybe he'd always liked bounding women up, restricting their movements, being in control, even before the memory loss. Or it could just be the fact that he was a kinky pervert that got off on shiny objects. Logan sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter because that would have made him a Pansy ass with a fetish.

Rolling his eyes as the music continued to assault his ear drums, he turned off the tap and stalked to the door. This he could handle, all he needed to do was walk out there and not fuck her, how hard could that be?

"Not fuckin' hard at all..." Logan growled ferociously, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he opened the bathroom door and cocked an eyebrow at the empty apartment.

He was currently missing a very important link to his new life. The life that now revolved around protecting, dominating, handcuffing, throttling and punishing the girl that had just run out on him.

His rapidly darkening eyes swept the room, pinpointing the TV, his empty pocket and the front door that had been left wide open in her rush to escape.

She'd fucking played him. Marie had played _him, _the Wolverine. Sucking him off had been a ruse to steal the key from his pocket. She had planned every little detail, even turning the volume up on the TV to mask the sounds of her unlocking the door and knowing full well that he'd hang back in the bathroom after she'd stormed out.

"That damn kid, I'm gonna kill her."

Realisation slowly dawned on Logan, and he barrelled out of the door determined to track down his prey. The longer he stood there acting like a wuss and letting his brain conjure up ways to rectify the situation, she was getting further away from his grasp.

His combat boots pounded against the floor as he tore down the corridor following her scent and skidding to a halt beside the doors that led to the stairs. She hadn't taken the elevator, but the stairs instead. He could hear her heavy breathing, her lungs screaming for her to stop and rest, her feet as she scurried down each step and the mumbled curses that floated from her Southern lips when she almost tripped.

Logan's face lit up with a cold and calculated feral smirk and he threw the doors open, not caring if he scared her shitless. He was so far beyond the realms of sheer anger, his fucked up brain felt as though it was in a different damn continent to the rest of him. Somewhere warm maybe, with pitchforks and hourly cage fights.

Sure enough, when he gazed over the railings, cockily leaning an arm over the side and caught sight of her startled face, Marie smelt frightened. Looked it, too.

_Shit, look at that mean scowl of hers. The girl really does have some balls. Thank fuck they ain't the real thing, though. 'Cause I'm hard and it's all for her and that attitude of hers. This isn't just about dragging her ass onto the right path any longer, nah. I want to own every inch of that body of hers, she needs to be mine. Only mine. _

_That might make me the biggest bastard going, but I don't fucking care. If she stays in my bed and by my side every minute of the God damn day, then nobody will ever lay a hand on her again. They won't touch what is mine, they won't fuck what is mine, they won't even look at what's mine. _

_I can break that cute attitude of hers with my dick and she sure as hell won't be running again. If I have to leave her alone, she'll be handcuffed to my bed. Stripped naked and waiting for me to return and fuck her hard. The girl can't be trusted yet, but she will learn. Mark my words, she will fucking learn. _

She stopped for a moment, hesitated, but that quickly morphed into self assurance and a heavy dose of confidence that would lead to her downfall. He knew that, she must have also, not that it stopped her from pissing him off further by continuing to run.

Wolverine pushed himself lazily off the railing, taking his time to crack the uncomfortable kink out of his neck. Rolling his shoulders, he readjusted his big ass belt buckle and scratched his heavy set jaw.

"Let the good fuckin' times roll."

Stopping himself short of checking his watch, and with a deafening roar, Logan sprinted after her.


End file.
